The Holy Man of The Church Creek
by Parcasious
Summary: He was an anomaly not meant to be in this world, yet fate would deem otherwise. After all, the fate of the world just may hang in the balance.
1. Chapter 1

The moon loomed in the horizon, clouds swirling around a center point situated in the sky. The night was still, the sounds of the cicadas on the trees out of season.

 _To be a magus is to walk with death._

He peered up at the sky; for within the sky was an anomaly: a dark void in which found writhing within were tendrils of lightning, and the vibrating thrum of thunderclaps.

 _"Thou clad in taint and steel- of fire and ruin,"_

A voice was ebbing through his head. Ancient, otherworldly, but unmistakably pure and devoid of any ill intentions.

" _I know I'm not what it is that you were expecting,"_

He felt his body growing light, his body steadily radiating bursts of foreign energy.

" _Regardless,_ " the voice seemed to grow weary. " _I need your help."_

His vision blurred, flecks of black forcing him into unconsciousness.

In a brilliant flash of light, He disappeared from the world. His was the story of a boy born in fire. His was the story of boy who defeated a living legend. And so began the tale of an even greater impossibility.

* * *

Shirou opened his eyes, breathing heavily. His short red hair was matted over his forehead which was glistening with sweat. As for the rest of him, his sleek and narrow face had traces of blood from his previous battle trailing down past his amber coloured eyes. His clothes were in tatters. A pair of jeans were reduced to nothing but torn up shorts, and his previous blue and white long-sleeved shirt was split down the center.

His gaze darted to his surroundings: A ruined mansion steadily being eaten away by scorching flames. He shivered from an unpleasant memory and got up on his feet.

His body felt lighter, stronger, and more resilient to the heat around him.

" _It's good that you've woken up."_

The aged voice once again spoke to him.

He frowned, unable to understand where it was coming from. "Who are you?" He asked.

A glow quickly spread out from in front of him, and from it, a small hand-sized chalice appeared. It was gold, the sides of the cup engraved with archaic designs in which flying doves were depicted soaring through the skies.

Staring at it, and the power it exuded, he could only conclude it to be one thing: The Holy Grail.

He stepped back, as far as he remembered, the Grail had been corrupted.

" _Fear not,"_ the voice spoke. " _It's not completely what you believe it to be."_

With another glow, the Grail shrunk to the size of a single pea before it formed into a necklace around his neck using strings created from another burst of light.

 _"You may know this to be a powerful mystic code, but regardless of its origin, its symbol alone is what is truly needed to be taken into consideration."_

He crossed his arms. As a third-rate magus, he wasn't familiar about mystic codes, nor about the significance a powerful one could play, but he did know one thing. "It's corrupted," he spoke.

The voice didn't speak in response, yet instead a quiet sigh could be heard.

 _"A matter for another time. F_ _or now, grab those chess pieces-"_ He glanced at the red chess pieces callously scattered across the damaged floor. Some looked normal while others possessed oddities in their make."- _and filter your energy into them."_

He stood there for a moment, looking at the fires of the burning house and made his decision. Even if he wanted answers, it would be far better to first find a safer place.

He nodded his head, and one by one, he began to pick up the chess pieces until he gathered all within his hands. They were all ruby like, gleaming in the light of the flickering flames. Oddly enough, the most important piece, the King, was missing. Remembering what he was instructed, he hesitated for a moment, before he began to seep his energy within the pieces.

 _"Our fate is ours to command."_

He raised a brow as the pieces began glowing, levitating, and swirling in a storm of red.

 _"Thou who art clad in steel and battle born instinct; those who fight fate with thy sword, thy bow, and thy lance."_

 _"-Shut and fill."_

 _"-Shut and fill."_

 _"-Shut and fill."_

A knight and a disfigured pawn, a queen and a pawn, and a bishop and a pawn, collided in a shower of sparks and light.

He glanced away to avoid the glare of the light, and when he glanced back, three new pieces hovered a meter away from him. They were roughly the same size and colour as the chess pieces, but they each depicted the upper half of a different warrior.

One wore light armour and wielded a lance. Another doned similar armour yet wielded a drawn bow. As for the final piece, it wore heavy armour, and its face was obscured by the visor of its helmet. Wielded firmly in its hands was a sword pointing towards the sky.

 _"To thou who art misguided and left unfulfilled. Take heed to the unworthy blasphemer and shroud thyself in madness!"_

Two rooks were next to collide. However, rather than a shower of sparks, thick shadows extended from the ground and wound themselves around the pieces.

The piece produced resembled the Greek minatour, its eyes narrowed.

" _Thou who standith alone within the darkness of the shadows, slinking, roaming, becoming the reaper of lost and wretched souls- Take arms I bid thee! Take arms!"_

 _"-Shut and fill!"_

 _"-Shut and fill!"_

The collision of five pawns perfectly mended together to form the image of a skull masked man with twin daggers.

 _"Thy hands that are stained in the ichor of magic beyond mortal means, raise them up and call forth the storms!"_

A disfigured bishop imploded on itself and produced a man in robes wielding a staff.

 _"O nobleman of the swift steed, the time of horses has long since come to an end. Let legends live and fly! On mighty mounts, thou shall wrest the skies and the very earth beneath thy feet."_

 _"-SHUT AND FILL!"_

 _"-SHUT AND FILL!"_

The final piece, a disfigured knight reduced itself to ashes and formed into the image of an armoured rider.

 _"My fate, is your fate, and your fate is mine. Thus, our fate is ours to command."_

The new floating pieces hovered down until they rested against his outstretched palms. No sooner, they sank within him.

Startled, he just stared at where the pieces used to be before the voice began talking again.

 _"It is done."_

"What did you do? And what about the King piece?" Shirou asked. He may not have been a chess player, but even he would know of the most important piece.

 _"It has already served its purpose. Now hurry and move towards that magic circle before you."_

He walked over to the circle and bent over to inspect it. The magic circle was rather large, thick strips of red clawing out from the inner most portion of the circle.

 _"Place your hand over the circle, there should be a link between you and it. We shall deal with getting away from this world from there."_

"And where is here exactly?" He asked confused.

 _"We're currently in the underworld- the presence of devil kind is unmistakable."_

His eyes widened from the news. All the stories he had ever heard have always depicted the underworld to be a place of evil. Devils even more so. His body tensed.

"You said 'the presence of devils'," he stated as his eyes narrowed. "Are they close?"

 _"Yes, you'd best hurry and pour some energy into the magic circle, although you best be prepared about where you end up, I have no control about such things."_

Nodding, he quickly disappeared as soon his hand made contact, leaving behind the burning residence. Even as the walls, curtains, and furniture began to topple and fade into ash, a burning portrait of a Great Devil still hung tenuously by a wall. A lion of power, health, altrification, and engineering. One of the seventy-two pillars of hell, the head of the house of _Marbas_.

* * *

In a remote church in the country of Italy near Milan, a woman stood training out in the fields. She had blue hair and wore the white garbs of a nun as she continuously swung her sword. Sweat was glistening over her narrow face, her high cheek bones making it so that the droplets all collected down her chin. She breathed out slowly, closing her dark-yellow eyes as she began to frown.

Her name was Xenovia Quarta, and she seldom found herself interested in anything that wasn't training, but that changed the day she heard of _him_.

He lived in the forest, down where the small creek behind the church split off into two narrow branches of water. It was a relatively quiet place with a small clearing where the sun's rays bypassed the forest canopy.

She had been skeptical at first about his existence, often scoffing at the name of the 'Wiseman of the Forest.' Hell, she couldn't stop the twitch that formed over her eye when she heard 'the Holy man of the Church Creek.'

Of course, mother Griselda had admonished her for her poor tolerance, but the scolding didn't leave a lasting impression. She just couldn't understand how a man living by a creek could possible best her fellow church peers. They were all training to be Holy sword users, a true honour if she had anything to say about it.

When questioned about the origin of 'Holy' in the mysterious man's name, every answer was vague. In a general consensus, a majority of the common view attributed 'Holy' to his presence alone. Even the aspiring apprentices of the high priests with their detection magic could only stiffly nod in agreement.

Something just wasn't right about him, and she didn't understand why no one had confronted him about it. Even if he possessed a _holy_ aura, the church still had its rules about outsiders: heathens really.

Therefore, it was mid-Tuesday-morning that she decided to venture out to the creek herself.

Nothing was really out of place by the creek. The old tree she had frequented as a child still had the practice marks from her early sword training days and she could vaguely see the spot where she and mother Griselda used to spar.

She moved further along the creek, looking for any signs of red; by the brief description given to her, it would be the easiest colour to spot after all.

Swish

Swish

Xenovia's ears perked up to the familiar sound of sword swings. She recognized them since she herself was a practitioner of the art.

A sword, an extension of one's body, mother Griselda had once told her of such a phrase. One can tell of the relative skill of a swordsman based on the sound of their blade alone. Which was why she couldn't keep her brow from twitching in annoyance. The sound of the swings was not even close precise, nor did it seem as if the blows had any purpose.

She turned and zeroed in on the sound.

Swish

Swish

Swish

Xenovia paused, his swings, they were improving.

Intrigued, she found herself crouched behind a thick foliage of vegetation as she gazed at the man before her. He had auburn hair and golden-brown coloured eyes. On his body, he wore a plain long sleeve and dark denim pants. Upon closer inspection, she couldn't feel anything remotely similar to holy aura around him.

She let out a breath and continued watching him. Based on his appearance, it didn't seem as if he was any older than her, give or take a year or so.

Swish

Swish

 _Swish_

The man's blades went. He wielded twin practice swords, both made of intertwined layers of bamboo. She didn't know how he possessed such practice swords out in the wilderness of the creek, but they were durable much like the ones she used in the church.

Swish

 _Swish_

 _Swish_

He was indeed getting better by the sound of his swings.

Swish

 _Swish_

Swish

Her eyes narrowed.

"Tighten your grip around your pinky," she said as she stepped out from the foliage. "It makes your swings more stable."

The man grinned.

"Thank you," the man said as he relaxed his shoulders, turning his head and giving her his attention. "Did you come to talk about something?" He asked.

"What makes you say that?" She said curiously.

"Well, kind of hard not to when you left your sword over there."

Her mouth gaped open before her eyes flickered down towards her hands which had previously been holding her practice sword. After careful inspection, gazing at the man to ascertain where he was staring at, she found her sword stuck within the foliage. Noticing the man's knowing look, she straightened up to preserve as much dignity as possible before coughing onto her hand.

"W-We will have words." She said as her cheeks flared a rosy hue.

"By all means," The man smiled. "But I don't have any tea or refreshments to offer."

"I'd be surprised if you did in the middle of the woods."

She walked carefully towards the man who had placed his practice swords down. She was still suspicious of him and more than a little miffed at herself for her blunder. "State your intentions." She said.

"Intentions about?"

"Living within church property."

"Oh, that." He scratched his head and sighed. "It wasn't exactly my idea, and besides, all I've been doing is training."

Her eyes drifted towards the man's practice swords. "You aspire to be a swordsman?" She asked.

"Well, no, not really," the man responded with a tilt of his head. "I want to be a hero, someone like an Ally of Justice."

For a moment, she nearly lost her composure as she could feel the laughter beginning to bubble up within her, but she held strong. She sighed. "I'm starting to find it kind of dumb that I worked myself up over something like this. Xenovia Quarta." She introduced herself.

"Shirou Emiya." The man spoke. "A pleasure to meet you."


	2. The Trials: Part 1

Shirou pondered silently to himself. Like the voice had told him, he had appeared without choice at the creek of a small church in the distance. It was modest, its wooden walls painted white, and a cross stood erected at the front. Multi-colour-paneled windows depicted the scene of Jesus wearing the crown of thorns, and his disciples watching silently in the background.

It was at that point that the voice originating from the necklace he wore grew silent. Oddly enough, moments before they had left the burning mansion, the voice didn't even seem the slightest bit tired. Rather, it was with a long sigh that the voice once again spoke asking him to stay by the church. In which case, he decided to train from what he remembered from his fight with Archer.

However, things weren't that simple.

Sooner or later, members of the church had taken notice of him, and had at first wanted him to leave, but quickly began sputtering nonsense whenever his necklace began emitting light. He had frowned then, and had adopted quite a sour look after groups of them would then come back referring to him as a Wise Man, or a Holy Man.

He couldn't wrap his mind around it, and _still_ couldn't, but at least he understood that it was the fault of the necklace around his neck which appeared invisible to others. He didn't have a need to hide it as a result, but he still found the phenomenon hard to explain. Thus, he could only hope that the thing would stop glowing at crucial moments. Somehow he would have to learn how to control it, or at least ask the voice what exactly was going on the next time it spoke.

Still, the most unexpected situation had yet to come. Youths practicing swordsmanship had urged him for a match upon noticing the two wooden swords he had created using an ability he called tracing: A higher level of projection magic that allowed him to recreate objects, specifically swords and the like.

The outcome of those matches, is what lead him here.

He stared quietly at Xenovia, her blue hair with a green highlight at the front swaying from a gust of summer wind. Her eyes were staring at him curiously, her pink lips spread thin as she took glances at the swords beside him. "Something I can help with?" He asked.

She shook her head, regaining her bearings as she quickly took her sword out from the shrubs. "I've only heard stories," she began, a steady neutrality coming over her features. "But most involve you defeating disciples of the inner Church."

He smiled wryly. "Uhm, believe me when I say I never started anything."

Xenovia grunted and quickly adopted one of her practiced stances. "Regardless, you should understand my curiosity as an inner Church disciple myself."

He frowned, but picked up his swords and adopted his own stance with his legs spread apart, arms by his side, and swords pointed forward.

He noticed the disapproving look on Xenovia's face, but he had grown used to such expressions by now. After all, she wasn't the first to be incredulous or take offense to his stance full of openings.

He motioned her forward, and immediately her expression seemed to shift with the mood.

"I hope you know what your doing by not taking things seriously," she spoke. "But even if that's the case-"

The ground rumbled as Xeonvia suddenly disappeared from his vision.

"-I'll make you," she whispered into his ear even as the sword came thrusting towards his exposed chest.

 _What is the only path for a novice attempting to take on a master?_

The distinct thump of practice sword against practice sword echoed throughout the clearing, an expression of surprise appearing on Xenovia's face for the briefest of moments.

 _The answer is simple, Abandon fear._

She back pedaled, twisting her body to avoid the second sword in his hands. It was the advantage of using two weapons. One could block and occupy the enemy's attention while the other was free to attack.

 _Weakness must be shown. It is the difference between skilled and unskilled._

Xenovia's eyes narrowed in concentration before she righted herself mid-backpedal, and sprung forwards with a thrust towards one of his other exposed vitals, the liver.

 _But since when does weakness mean defeat?_

He let out a shout as he swung a reinforced arm to intercept the blow he knew would be coming.

 _Because weakness itself, is opportunity._

His weapon pressed against Xenovia's, a look of shock clearly visible on her face that failed to go away. It was expected he supposed. Based on how she had been carrying herself, he was deftly sure she was well versed in the use of a sword, something further driven home when his eyes subconsciously analysed the history of her practice sword.

She grunted as she pulled back and once again attacked, the previous expression of neutrality on her face shifting into frustration.

Weakness is opportunity. It was a truth he had glimpsed from his fight with Archer in their exchange of blades.

He who had no foundation in his swordsmanship, and compared with those who did, the difference between them was like comparing the earth to the Heavens.

Therefore, he did what man had done since the beginning, _adapt_.

Xenovia silently bit her lips, as she distanced herself and began to stare at him speculatively. None of her attacks had worked, and it was she who was beginning to get hard pressed to find any sort of advantage.

It was not because she was unskilled, but it was because she was far _more_ skilled than him that his sword style proved effective. He who had never truly trained with a sword, relying on the memories of his fight with Archer alone, and she who had practiced for the majority of her life, there was no contest between which of them was superior in swordsmanship. She was obviously better.

"That sword style," Xenovia began. "What kind of style is it?"

He didn't answer and instead motioned for her to come at him again. It was the only way for him to win. His style of fighting involved predicting where exactly the opponent's attack would land to immediately begin to block several steps ahead of the enemy's assault. Therefore, attacking was too reckless for him. Then again, Archer had been able to do it by simultaneously leaving his vitals open for an attempted attack, but at the same time attacking with his other blade. Unfortunately, he was still far from Archer's level.

The moment she came and attacked again, he locked her sword in his, and with the pressure of his momentum, he lashed out with his other sword.

Wood splintered as Xenovia quickly twisted her sword-locked sword to angle the handle in the direction of his incoming attack.

A resounding bang occurred, and he was forced back, surprised at how skilled Xenovia had been to block such an attack. It was then that he noticed off in the corner of his eye, a shadow of a person hiding behind a tree.

His gaze travelled towards the sky, noticing just how far the sun had already set. By now it was already past high noon, and was near the start of the afternoon.

"Pay attention!" Xenovia yelled as she took his momentary action of taking his eyes off of her as an insult.

She quickly charged forward, and he quickly scrambled to block her coming attack. She was right in that he shouldn't have taken his eyes off an opponent, even if it were only for a moment.

Reinforcing himself, he quickly blocked the attack and saw the opening he needed to land the first blow and end this duel; it had appeared at her stomach.

Not wasting any time, he took a step forward, eyes widening comically as the ground beneath him gave way to mud and instantly displaced his overhead attack. Not only that, his balance had been disrupted and his momentum caused him to slam into Xenovia even after his splintered sword cut down the middle of her clothes.

With an unexpected yelp, Xenovia fell into the creek behind her, her clothes torn.

Looking around him, he quickly realized that their fight had gotten them directly next to the creek, which explained all the mud.

Still, he could instantly tell that Xenovia was not happy.

Sopping wet, and her black bra in full display, she quickly tore off a piece of her clothes and wrapped it around her. There was a moment of silence before her body began to tremble. "That, that was," she felt heat coming up over her face as adrenaline flooded her body. " _You_ ,"

"And that's the match," he quickly cut her off, taking a few steps back as she worked herself up to her feet. From the looks of it, he could instantly understand her intentions for a rematch, but the murderous look in her eyes greatly dissuaded him. Of course, he could understand her rage, but he had not intended to cut her clothes and shove her into the creek. _What kind of luck did he have?_ For some reason, he wanted to cry.

Just as she was about to argue, light once again began to emit from his necklace, causing both her and the stranger watching from the trees to immediately freeze in astonishment.

Even he, who had experienced such a phenomenon already in the past few days was taken aback. A warmth began to ebb from within him starting from his chest and flowing outwards. Plants and flowers around him began to bloom, life retuning to even some of the plants that were previously wilted.

It was then that the stranger he had noticed watching his bout with Xenovia stepped out from the shadows. Based on the figure alone, it was obviously a woman, and based on the sudden fear in Xenovia's eyes, it must have been a person with high standing within the church.

The woman wore a black nun's habit aligned with gold crosses at the hem of the dress and the sleeves, and a wooden rosary wrapped around her neck. She had piercing blue eyes and blond hair which was covered beneath her habit.

"M-Mother Griselda?" Xenovia spoke, her face seeming to pale drastically as the woman approached.

"Foolish child, bow your head," Griselda spoke quickly as she arrived next to Xenovia and admonished her. She then gave a meaningful look towards him. "I did not expect a Holy Man to grace this simple church."

He didn't respond. Partly because he wished to avoid explaining for himself, and the other because he could tell that he had already avoided another confrontation with Xenovia. Additionally, how could he possibly even begin to explain?

After a moment, the light quickly began to die down.

But in that moment, Griselda quickly took his silence with a nod before she too looked towards the swords in his hands with confusion. "You practice with swords?" She asked.

"Yes," he spoke truthfully.

Griselda simply stared back puzzled until a small grin appeared over her face. "Interesting," she spoke. "Is this creek to your liking? Or perhaps do you need it to obtain some sort of spiritual enlightenment?"

Xenovia had a confused look on her face, her brows furrowing as she stared at Griselda.

He paid her no mind, instead trying to understand what it was Griselda was asking him. "Well, there's actually no particular reason," _I just found it a bit rude to suddenly intrude._ The voice had asked him to stay near the Church, but it hadn't asked him to live by the creek. He had chosen to do so out of his own principles.

Grisleda's eyes seemed to shine before she laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Boy," she spoke softly. "Seeing as you yourself have taken quite well to the sword, would you consider using your talents in an upcoming event in the church?"

"M-Mother Grisleda!?" Xenovia's outburst was quickly put down by a hard stare from said woman.

Seeing that he had yet to speak, Griselda smiled again before lowering herself to stare at eye level. "Not only that, but I can offer you guidance in the way of the sword."

"Your offer," he scratched his head and sighed. "Will you give me some time to think about it?"

"Of course, young Holy man," Griselda nodded. "Forgive me for asking, but has the Vatican sent you for any reason?"

He didn't respond because he had no answer to give. Of course, he was completely inclined to give out the truth, but something in her expression told him that anything he could say at this point, lie or not, would go completely over her head. Say he gave out the truth, to her it would simply sound like another fabricated lie as if he was willingly withholding the true answer.

"I see," Griselda seemed to have come to her own conclusions. "Then very well. You may take all the time you need, but I would appreciate a response within a couple days." She turned to leave, nudging Xenovia to follow.

Xenovia nodded in his direction stiffly before glancing back at Griselda, then back at him. Pursing her lips, she quietly followed after her mother and disappeared in the direction of the Church.

He let out a breath, and sat down, his back leaning against a tree as he rested his body. Absently he fumbled with the necklace which was still emitting a faint glow. He currently had no idea what he could use it for aside from the fact that it contained the answer to all his questions. Absently, he began to inspect it with structural grasping, an ability that allowed him to fully understand the make of an object. However, to do so required him to send a pulse of his magic into said object, yet even after doing that, the only information that filled his head were things he already knew.

Silently he began to wonder to himself.

Where was he? What was he supposed to do from now on?

Almost in response, the necklace gave off a faint burst of heat, a soothing feeling spreading throughout his body. It was accompanied by a silent thrum that spread out across the forest.

 _The call of the animals began to resound._

He stared up in surprise as two doves descended down from the sky. One had brown feathers and a circle of green pigmentation around its neck. The other was completely white.

A soft wind blew past, ruffling tufts of his hair and cooling down his body.

Soon, not just doves began to appear. Small animals, large animals, it didn't matter. Some came and went, while others relaxed a distance away before moving on. The two doves who had perched on trees on either side of him let out soft caws before flying off once again towards the sky.

Pleasantly surprised, he watched bewildered as a ray of light, previously blocked behind the clouds, pierced through and shone down on him. Foreign energy seemed to circulate around his body before the light emitted from the necklace faded.

It was then that he decided that even though he may not know what he was getting into, there was at least some merit in learning to grow stronger.

He stared off towards the Church, a decision made within his mind.

* * *

Two people walked silently through the forest on their way back to the inner most circle of the Church by the small creek. One walked with her back straight, an air of regality surrounding her, while the other simply emitted a dour attitude.

"You may speak child," Griselda spoke to Xenovia. "I can tell that you have something on your mind."

Xenovia's brows furrowed before she frowned. "What was that?" She asked.

She wasn't referring to what Griselda had previously said towards Shirou, but the holy aura that had suddenly blasted in her face at the conclusion of the spar. Understanding soon came over her. This was why the other inner Church members had returned flabbergasted upon their visit to the creek. Such a radiant aura of purity was rarely if ever seen even within the Churches across the world.

"That, Xenovia, is something that you will come to understand just by staying near him." Griselda spoke as she pushed past the bramble. "The aura he was subconsciously releasing signifies how blessed he is by the Lord and the Angels up above. Even I can't tell what his future may hold."

Xenovia could only mutely nod her head. If anything, she wouldn't find it surprising if he just so happened to be an Angel in disguise. The title of Holy Man was truly fitting for an individual such as him, but what she didn't understand was why he was practicing with a sword. From her understanding, such blessed people would normally devote their time to learning the more advanced Church spells due to their dispositions.

"Still," Griselda muttered to herself. "For him to appear here at this time, he must be someone of importance to the Vatican." She turned and stared thoughtfully at Xenovia. "You best not do anything to antagonize him, rather he should be treated with great respect. If I had known about him earlier, I would have at least sent out a notification to the other disciples in the Church."

"Mother Griselda," Xenovia began as she quickly picked up her pace to walk beside her. "About that other matter of you teaching him the sword."

Griselda stopped, before turning her head to the side. "You don't agree?"

"It's not because of that," she said. "Just, don't we have to prepare for the initiation of the Holy Swords?"

Griselda nodded. "Indeed, we do, but that's precisely a reason why I had asked him to come in the first place."

Xenovia's eyes widened. "You intend for him to participate?"

The initiation of the Holy Swords was a test to determine who amongst the disciples of this small Protestant Church by the creek had the qualifications to wield the two fragments of Holy Sword Excalibur kept within the Church's vault. Holy Sword Excalibur was one of the four Holy Swords said to have been forged by God himself in the Holy Bible. A sword so strong that it granted the user seven abilities that rendered the user near un-parralled on the battlefield. However, during the great war between the factions, Angel, Devil, and Fallen, the sword was shattered, its abilities divided into seven fragments. Two of which resided within the Church.

However, as a fragment of a True Holy Sword, only those with a strong affinity to light and possessed it within them, could wield one. This of course was all incorporated into the tests administered throughout the initiation in the course of three trials: The test of light, integrity, and finally the test of combat.

"Yes child, I do," Griselda spoke. "As you could already tell from the aura he gave out, he most certainly has a great chance in wielding at least one of the two swords, just as you were born with the ability to wield the sword of Roland. Furthermore, I suspect that he was actually sent here by the Vatican to participate in the initiation."

Xenovia pursed her lips in confusion. "But doesn't the Vatican possess their own pair of shard fragments?"

"Indeed, but even I can't understand what goes through the Vatican leader's heads at times, and besides, there are no rules that say one can't do so. In the case of the Holy Swords, they themselves are the ones who choose their wielders, thus it doesn't matter if an individual from another Church were to participate."

"But how are you so sure that he's going to?"

"That is of course because I see my younger self in him."

"Truly? Did you have the dream to be a Hero of Justice as well?"

Griselda's face blanked after the question, and she simply refused to answer, regardless of how incredulous Xenovia's eyes were becoming. "Either way," she spoke. "The look in his eyes does not belong to the of kind individual who would shirk away from a method to grow stronger."

 _Power is necessary to protect. An ant cannot protect an elephant._

"I suspect that he will come about with an answer by the end of the day." Griselda spoke as she and Xenovia stepped in view of the Church. "Be sure to keep an eye out for him."

Xenovia nodded, and watched as Griselda entered the Church, leaving her alone to move towards the training grounds where the other disciples were out practicing, but quickly remembered to first get a new change of clothing. She didn't really mind what she was wearing, but it would be a sin to cause undo trouble to all the other disciples putting in all of their effort. Besides they were still wet and would weigh her down.

She quickly changed and then promptly made her way to the training fields.

Here eyes glanced across the open fields, staring at the hard work everyone was putting in for the coming initiation. This was why she picked up her practice sword and once again began swinging it in front of a test dummy. She knew it wasn't the most efficient way to train, as partnering up against an opponent would be far more useful, but she was never the sociable type. Out of all the disciples present, she was friends with none of them, yet she didn't care. Even if her methods were inefficient, her dedication was not lacking in the slightest. Even more so because she was naturally talented with a strong disposition to the way of the sword. It was something Mother Griselda had instantly been able to identify, and it was the beginning of the change of her image. Before, she considered her mother to be an angel as she was doted on quite frequently, and was constantly under the looks of reverie that accompanied her wherever she went within the Church property. But afterwards, she became a _devil_.

She shuddered from the memories of the harsh days of training to bring about her maximum potential, and even then, she could hardly supress the involuntary action of glancing behind her every now and then.

Soon sweat was beginning to glisten over her brow as the afternoon transitioned into night. Quickly her eyes darted as the sound of a twig snapping alerted her of a new presence.

She stared back without saying a word. So, he actually had come.

"Where is Griselda?" Shirou asked, stepping into the training fields.

She put away her sword before crossing her arms. "She's gone into the inner Church alter so we can do nothing but wait until she leaves from it. We do not have the authority or jurisdiction to enter at this moment," she spoke informatively. "Based on your appearance here, I suppose that means you accept?"

Shirou nodded his head.

"Good." For some reason, a fairly pleasant feeling began welling up from inside her. No doubt she was inwardly happy to have someone to train with. Even if she could practice training by herself, even she had to admit that it was lonely. "Then from this moment forth, _I_ am your senior disciple. As such, you have no choice but to listen to all my instructions," she coughed into her hands as she noticed the blank look Shirou was giving her. _Does he not understand?_ "Which means you have to train with me whenever I request for it. No complaints."

A hint of understanding entered Shirou's eyes, and he slowly voiced his acceptance, although he did so with a feeling as if he was getting conned. "It's fine if it's just training," he spoke.

Xenovia let out a rare smile. "Then for now, as mother is currently unavailable, I will educate you in the coming event."

Xenovia slowly walked with Shirou over to a large hill that overlooked the flat plains below it. Grass grew all the way up past the shins, and flowers of various colours were also in bloom, swaying in the gentle night breeze. She motioned for both of them to sit down, and Shirou quickly complied.

She sat down, her legs stretched out in front of her, and her hands pressing against the ground to support her weight as she leaned down on them. Slowly, she brushed back her hair and turned her gaze to Shirou.

"The Holy Sword Initiation," she began. "An event that decides the next wielder of the two Holy Swords held secure in this Church by my mother Griselda and the old uncles near the alter." She spoke freely, as if there was nothing wrong in disclosing such information to an outsider, but even still, the Holy Aura Shirou had emitted had left a large impression on her that even she didn't know of.

Shirou remained silent, letting her go on.

"The initiation involves three stages, of which I'm sure you'd be able to do well."

The two sat in silence, Xenovia bringing her knees to her chest after a moment and relaxing. After a hard day of work, she could always take pleasure in watching the setting sun in the evening.

She stared at Shirou, and inwardly began to assess him.

He was good with a sword, of that she had witnessed it herself. Still, that didn't mean he was qualified enough to wiled a Holy Sword. After all, many other disciples desired to acquire such an outcome.

Stuck in her thoughts, she sighed as she noticed Griselda finally leave the Church. "It's mother Griselda," she spoke.

Noticing, Shirou gave a nod after which he began to talk quietly with Griselda. She probably giving him more specifics on the upcoming event. Although she knew the three stages, that was because they were disclosed to her by her mother, therefore, she realized that she shouldn't be the one to explain about the initiation around half way through her explanation to Shirou, and had simply lapsed into silence.

It was on this day, that her life slowly began to change.

* * *

It was roughly four weeks later, and activity within the Church was at an all time high. People walked in and out carrying all types of wares: Some with candles, and others with various ornaments. The interior of the Church contained rows and rows of people participating in the coming initiation.

Most were in traditional nun habits and priest garbs, but that was only for the older generation. The younger generation wore standard formal clothing, white shawls over the top of their chests.

This was the same for both Shirou and Xenovia who stood together near the exit of the room. Both of them had trained relentlessly under the gaze of Griselda, and as a result were near the exit to be as far away from her as possible. To Shirou, he had finally found someone he believed to be worse than Taiga in her kendo club days. The training he had undergone with Xenovia was quite harsh to the point that he wouldn't be going into the specifics.

As for why he had decided to participate in this initiation, the answer was obvious to him: Excalibur. The sword in his memories could never have been shattered. Just the mere thought caused a pain to bubble from within him. At this point, this was all the proof he needed to realize that he was no longer in his world. Yet even so, shard or not, he had a desire to obtain it in memory of the of the servant who found ceaselessly by his side.

"Brothers and sisters," a soft and clear voice echoed out from within the Church. "I thank you all for coming to this event, and will quickly remind those participating to line up quietly in front of the alter for the first test."

The Holy Sword Initiation test had begun.

"In front of this alter is a magical device that will measure one's aptitude to light, and the amount present within one's body. As you should all know about Holy Sword users, all without question must possess a sufficient amount of light energy. Thus, this first test is to eliminate those who do not have a sufficient amount," Griselda spoke as a small procession of elderly priests set a small device on top of the alter.

"This is the light reading device, and it scales by colour. Yellow being the lowest, and white being the highest. Of course, to pass this test, one must possess at least a colour of blue which signifies a medium aptitude of light energy."

As Griselda spoke, the priests and visitors from other Churches began to mutter between themselves about who would succeed. Most of the other Church representatives had full faith in the disciples they had brought with them.

Especially one priest from the neighboring Church who stood smugly staring at his Church's disciple.

When everything was set up, and all the disciples formed into a neat line, the event formally began as Griselda gave a few more words to the crowd.

"Irina Shidou." A name was called and a girl with orange hair tied into two pigtails stepped forth in front of the alter. Her narrow face revealed her nervousness, the expression in her wide violet eyes too easy to read. Still, with trembling hands, she quickly placed them onto the measuring device.

Instantly the colour changed from yellow, to green, to red, and then blue. At this point a look of relief quickly flashed over Irina's face knowing that she had already passed. Still, the device on the alter changed to one more colour, violet.

The smug priest seemed to become even more smug as his gaze wandered across the surprised crowd.

The audience members were shocked, the first to go, and already someone had passed. Although it was not spoken out loud, but many already knew that a lot of disciples would fail this test as the number of people possessing enough light attribute was extremely rare. It was why men like Valper Galilei researched extensively into the field to the point of producing in-human experimentation.

Smiling, Irina quickly returned to her spot by the other disciples.

Other names were then quickly called out, but many, as expected, failed.

Yellow.

Red.

Green.

More and more people failed, reducing the number of participating disciples by over half their number. It was at this point that some were beginning to stare at Irina with uncontrolled jealousy. To them this had been their chance to wield a Holy Sword, and many were bitter with similar thoughts of 'if I can't have it, then no one can' flowing through their minds.

"Xenovia Quarta," the way Griselda called her name revealed just how proud she was of her daughter.

The other disciples made way for her as even they knew that she was related to Griselda, a high figure in the Holy human society of the Vatican and other such institutes.

Upon laying her hands on the measuring device, a loud sound echoed out as the colour instantly changed from the base yellow all the way up to white.

The sheer silence of the room was deafening. No one spoke. Only the soft laugh of a proud mother echoed out across the room. Even the smug faced priest from earlier who had brought Irina Shidou could do nothing but gape.

Shown through the other faces of the other disciples that had come and still yet to pass, was bitter resignation. How could they possibly compete with that? Even if they were somehow able to pass, wouldn't that mean that they would eventually have to face the daughter of Sword Demon Quarta in the final test of combat? Still, some hope was present in their eyes. There were exactly two Excalibur shards after all, and unless another absurd candidate appeared, they could at least rest a bit easier.

Names continued to be called in the ever-increasing silence of the Church. Finally, more disciples were able to get past the test consecutively.

Blue.

Blue.

And blue.

With happy smiles on their faces, they looked towards Irina and then each other in determination. They didn't even consider Xenovia, not because she was a person to be overlooked, but because they could already tell that she was too strong. Of that they had no doubts as some of them who passed were from the same Church as her and had seen how thoroughly beaten her practice dummies were.

As the number of disciples left to take the test quickly dwindled, it was fast approaching for Shirou's turn to arrive. Still, not a hint of nervousness could be seen on his face, something he had only recently developed after Griselda forcibly drilled the habit into him. After all, she had used the excuse that it wasn't good to reveal your intentions on the battlefield.

As the last few names were called, it finally came the time for his name. A nobody. Someone in which the other Churches had never even heard of.

"Shirou Emiya," Griselda spoke.

This time it was readily obvious just what Griselda thought of the boy who walked up to the alter. Her voice hadn't been like the way she spoke out for Xenovia, but rather it contained a hint of excitement.

Of course, to the other people in the crowd, they would have no idea what that would mean coming from Griselda, but Xenovia was different. Her mother would only take that tone of voice only if she knew of something certain. Over the course of the three weeks that she had experienced a true form of hell with Shirou, she'd come to understand something about him. There was no way he could _not_ pass this test. On more than one occasion, she had experienced the influx of his Holy Aura, and it had rendered her shocked time and time again. After all, to possess such an aura, how much light energy did he have within him? Even thinking about it was frightening, and now that she would have the chance to accurately gauge it, even she could understand her mother's excitement.

"Please step up to the alter," Griselda urged as Shirou had yet to move.

Swallowing, Shirou immediately noticed the glow of the necklace around his neck and the lack of reaction from the crowd. He had already verified it before, but it turns out that not only could they not see the necklace, they couldn't even see its glow. However, he was able to ascertain that they could feel the power coming off from it.

Nodding to Griselda, he walked up to the alter and steadily placed his hands on the device.

 _"My light is the light that shine's down on all."_

The voice once again resounded in his head after all the weeks of silence.

 _"I will give you your answers later, but for now you must do all you can to win."_

It was at that point that he realized that he could no longer hear any breathing in the room. Startled, he turned around to face the gawking crowd.

The device under his hand was going crazy, a multitude of colours flashing as the crystal that made up the device began to tremble. It was with the help of the procession of priests that it stabilized back to its base yellow. It was then that Griselda silently motioned for Shirou to once again place his hand on the device.

Silence.

All eyes watched as the colour came to a stop at a brilliant white before the device instantly shattered into a fine powder.

* * *

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	3. The Trials: Part 2

Shirou swallowed, a faint trace of nervousness flashing across his face as his gaze swept across the unmoving spectators and examinees, even Griselda was included. Her face, although misleadingly blank, revealed her incredulousness. The observation was based on the type of image the woman portrayed to the world: upstanding, orderly, and devote. Up till now, her pacing had never been broken. After ten seconds, she should have called for the next examinee regardless of the result. She had done so for her own daughter, and should have done so for him, but he was apparently different.

Still, the fact that she and most of the other clergy could control their emotions so well was something Xenovia and many other examinees could learn from.

Xenovia was standing there, perhaps unable to realize that her mouth was partially open and no sound was coming out. It was the kind of reaction he couldn't have expected to see on her face, her expression naturally resolute and business like. Which was why when she noticed his gaze, she immediately clamped her mouth shut; her face flushing before she promptly found interest in the craftsmanship of the tiled floors.

Ironically, if she could just display the same bout of emotion on a regular basis, most people would have no problems approaching the 'untouchable' woman. Unbeatable in any duel, straight faced, and unaccustomed to social norms, she was perceived to be at the pinnacle of a 'stand alone complex'. However, the truth of reality was far different.

She wanted to make friends.

She didn't want to be alone.

But she was still a Quarta, a name he had come to realize was just as renowned as the Pope himself. Griselda Quarta was famous. Not only for her phenomenal ability with a sword as mentioned in the rumours, but because of her relations to Heaven and its Angels.

Angels.

It was still a term that was hard to wrap around his mind, but if Devils existed, then Angels must too.

Still though, friends or no friends, it didn't stop Xenovia from performing at her best.

It was only after several days of training with her did he notice any changes in her usual expression. The lightening of her eyes, and the way her lips would unknowingly part into a thin smile whenever she thought he wasn't looking; it was all a far cry from the distant and envious look he had once spotted hidden in her eyes as she stared at the occupied training fields.

Admittedly, she was beautiful when she smiled. It seemed to contain what could only be described as childish glee combined with the refinement of a young woman. Her face lively and a certain aura of playfulness exuding from her, leading many to pause and rub their eyes in disbelief in the previous weeks. Even he was effected by it, but nonetheless, this certainly wasn't the time to ponder on it.

"Pass," Griselda's voice echoed in the silence of the Church's inner chamber before the rest of the clergy soon regained their bearings. "Please join the rest of the examinees lined up on the far wall," she spoke clearly.

Nodding his head, he quickly did as was instructed to avoid all the attention, but contrary to his beliefs, the gazes only followed him even after he made himself as discreet as possible. The hushed whispers couldn't have been anymore obvious either.

Xenovia elbowed him from the side, and nodded in approval as their gazes met. She didn't speak as no words needed to be said to convey her sentiments. A job well done.

There was a brief commotion as the gathered Priests and Nuns fussed over what to do with the broken device before ultimately looking helplessly towards Griselda. It was utterly hopeless, there was nothing they could do despite it being a gathering of some of the Church's most wisest elders. Yet how could they possibly fix something that was so utterly destroyed?

They turned their incredulous gazes on him, which caused him to shy away. Inwardly though, he swore to himself that he would pay them back somehow, or someday. This was solely because it was his fault. He should have known better than to trust his own luck.

Griselda sighed, and gave him an unreadable look, before ultimately suspending the first trial of the Holy Sword Initiation test.

He truly felt sorry for the inconvenience, and could only hope that the device he broke wasn't expensive. In that case, he really wouldn't know what to do to pay them back other than a lifetime of service.

Yet from the strained expressions of the clergy, he could already tell that that hope was just him being _far_ to optimistic.

"Way to go," Xenovia whispered discreetly by his side, praise evident in her tone. "Just from rumours alone, I heard that that light measuring device was the only one of its kind."

He grimaced, and looked reproachfully at what remained of the device. It could be fixed, couldn't it?

"Not only did you break it, but you completely shattered the jewel," Xenovia continued to list her observations, oblivious to the effect it was having on him. It was like Pandora, a woman of Greek legend, attaining hope, only for it to fade quietly within her hands.

"Rumours are that the jewel is ancient. An artifact obtained during the Great War of the Factions granted to the mortal realm by the fourth Angel of God, Phaneul, minister of Truth and judgement."

The necklace around his neck thrummed in response to the words spoken, but he didn't even notice as he was too busy preparing a long list of apologies in his head.

Xenovia nodded after a moment, and turned to face him. "Even I don't know your potential. You broke an artifact of an Angel," she gave him a thumb's up from beneath the white cloak she wore. "Good job," she spoke as a senior congratulating her junior, "but don't think it will be that easy to defeat me." She grinned viciously as she crossed her arms, and tried to loom over him, but then quickly realized that he was too tall. Somewhat aggravated, she poked at his chest and warned, "I have my own tricks up my sleeves young junior. So, don't get cocky."

 _What are you supposed to be? The Demon King or my Senior?_ He sighed ruefully, a tad impressed on just how well she was able to maintain a straight face throughout their conversation.

"But aren't you the one who's being cocky?" A voice spoke meekly from their side.

He turned to face a pair of curious violet-coloured eyes on a smooth and pale face with thin peach coloured lips. The girl in front of him wore a similar white cloak as Xenovia, but her hood was down to reveal her chestnut-coloured hair which was tied into two twin-tails held together by a blue scrunchy.

It was Irina Shidou, the first examinee to partake in the first trail, and the first to pass. She had a finger tapping her lower lip, and her posture was partially bent as she leaned her head forward.

"Is that so?" Xenovia uncrossed her arms, and stared at Irina.

He could tell right away that she meant no harm in her response, but the tone in which it was spoken could be perceived as threatening. It didn't help that she gave off the impression that she was glaring.

However, Irina Shidou didn't seem to mind at all, as if completely oblivious to it. Instead, she spoke what was on her mind.

"How can he you call him a junior if he's your age or older? Shouldn't it be more like 'brother' as the Lord says?" Irina spoke, motioning towards him. "We are all brothers and sisters in the eyes of the Lord," she reasoned.

Xenovia was taken aback by the question. He could tell from the minute twitch of her lip, and the slight raise of her brows. "Y-Your right," she admitted after a moment, unable to think of anything to refute Irina's suggestion. She quickly fell into a bout of silence that he could tell was not on purpose. She just didn't have anything else to talk about.

After the last few weeks spent with Xenovia, he quickly realized that she didn't exactly have the best social skills. Then again, neither did he, but he had watched his classmate and resident Magus, Rin, enough times to learn a few things about the particular skill. Plus, judging from the way Irina didn't shy away from Xenovia, perhaps this could be a new friend for her?

But what could he talk about?

Irina Shidou.

He nodded his head before getting Irina's attention. "Your name," he began. "It's Japanese."

Irina's eyes brightened. "Yes, I used to live there along with my best friend, but had to move away because of my dad's job."

"Best friend?" Xenovia asked after noticing him urging her to speak.

"Yeah," Irina spoke. "We used to play a lot, and go around everywhere. It's too bad that I had to leave him be-"

Griselda cleared her throat, gathering all the examinees attention. "After an unforeseen event, it's unfortunate but the first trial can no longer continue. As such, we will move on to the second, and simply allow all those who have not participated in the first test to test their luck should they win the right to wield a fragment."

After the announcement, many of the clergy had begun glaring at him, causing him to bow his head in shame and remorse. He didn't mean too, he really didn't. Besides, wasn't it enough already that he could feel the stares like daggers pointed at his back?

It was even worse when he heard a few asking about what kind of person he was, awed expressions over their faces.

"It's to be expected as an apprentice of my mother," Xenovia spoke proudly in the face of all the attention, subconsciously influenced by her pride in her first friend. "Such a result only proves it."

 _You're really not helping_ , Shirou grumbled to himself, the stares increasing ten-fold. It felt as if there was an invisible pressure on his shoulders.

If Griselda disapproved of Xenovia's statement, she didn't show it, and instead motioned for the examinees to enter the next room. They were no exception, and as they passed by, Griselda leaned in and whispered silently into Xenovia's ear, Xenovia's face paling rapidly.

"F-Forgi-"

Xenovia didn't even get to finish before Griselda turned around to join the rest of the clergy in the next room, leaving her behind with an arm outstretched in front of her.

He gave her his condolences as he recalled how harsh Griselda could be during her training regiments.

Entering the next room, they saw that the place was bare except for a large gate at the far wall. The left part of the gate was covered in ivy and other forms of plant growth, while the right side of the gate was coated in gold.

"Welcome the Second Trial of the Holy Sword Initiation," Griselda once again spoke as she moved to stand behind a small podium. "This is the hardest trial, not because of its difficulty to pass, but in what this trial will teach you."

Her words sent the examinees into a quiet murmur, Irina whispering quietly to a despondent and glazed eyed Xenovia.

He elbowed her in the side, knowing that words wouldn't be enough to get her out of such a state induced by her mother.

She blanked for a moment, then shook her head to clear her thoughts before she looked thoughtfully at him. "You'll help me with my mom, won't you?" She asked with a strained smile.

He didn't respond, but he noticed that Irina did. Good lord, she really didn't know what she was getting into. Still, he sighed before facing Xenovia. "I'll help too," he spoke against his better judgement.

Xenovia gave him a thankful nod before she too began to focus on the words Griselda was speaking.

"Like the first test, we will call you all in one by one, and the examinee is to pass through this gate. From there a score will be given by this reader," she pointed at a small dial located at the top of the gate. "A pass will be five-hundred points, but let me remind you all again. This test isn't hard to pass. What's hard is what you all will see within."

"Is there a maximum score?" An examinee called out.

Griselda furrowed her brows before speaking. "Generally," she began. "There should be, but no one has ever been able to reach the measured limit," she spoke.

The hall grew silent as Griselda's eyes trailed over the sheet of names she had in her hands. "Irina Shidou, please step up to the gate," she called.

Getting a nod from the Priest of her Church, Irina stepped up to the front of the gate. She then turned to Griselda, unsure of what to do.

"Simply push the gate open, and walk in," Griselda spoke.

Sucking in a breath of air, Irina laid her hand flat over the gate and pushed, a dull flash of light illuminating her as she disappeared from within the gate.

The room fell into a bout of soft whispers, many speculating about what Griselda had meant by the difficulty of the second trial. How could something be hard, yet be easy to pass?

It was a paradox. No matter how one would think about it, it didn't make sense. Therefore, the only way to understand was to first enter the gate. It was a conclusion that both he and Xenovia quickly arrived at. That, and to simply ask Irina when she got out.

Time slowly passed on, and it was with growing realization that this trail just may take quite a long time.

Finally, after fifteen minutes, the gates shuddered before creaking open to reveal a pale face Irina. Her hands were slightly trembling, but she had yet to realize it. Even the vigour she had had mere moments ago was gone.

The stark difference in her appearance going in, and her appearance going out sent a chill down many people's backs. Yet the score displayed on the screen was a number in the thousand, way past the minimum of five-hundred for a pass.

"Congratulation," Griselda's voice echoed out. "You pass."

Irina gave a dis-spirited nod, and made her way back toward him and Xenovia. The closer she got to them, the more obvious it was that she was clearly shaken about something.

She smiled dimly as she stopped in front of them. "I did it," she spoke quietly before going completely silent.

"Just, what happened in there?" Xenovia couldn't help asking.

Irina only continued to smile, and said nothing, choosing to rest against a wall where she fell into deep thought.

Shirou furrowed his brows as he watched more people being called up to take the test. Something wasn't right about this test. Why did it seem as if the examinees had lost even though they had past?

Almost all of the examinees that had previously taken the test had passed, yet all of them were reduced to a state like Irina.

Suddenly it grew quiet.

The atmosphere in the room could only be described as somber, a permeable heaviness seeming to float within the air that steadily began to affect him. He didn't like it, watching people wallow in such an atmosphere.

"Shirou," Xenovia began, nudging his side. "What do you think is happening in there?" She asked.

"I'm not sure," he frowned. "Just promise you'll be careful in there."

Xenovia pursed her lips, and nodded just before his name was called and then promptly interrupted.

"Shirou Emi-"

"With all do respects Sister Griselda, but may we make a proposition in consideration of what happened during the first trial?" The voice belonged to the head Priest of the Church.

Griselda stopped speaking and motioned for the Priest to continue with a "go ahead."

"On behalf of myself and my fellow clergy, we propose that this examinee go last should anymore unforeseen events occur."

Hearing the words spoken, he coughed into his hands and silently sent a message to Griselda to agree, lest he cause anymore trouble.

"Accepted," Griselda spoke. "Then, I'd like to call upon the next examinee…"

Name after name got called, and more and more examinees exited from the gate pale faced, but resolute. The scores displayed on the counter were relatively high, averaging about seven-hundred points, well within the minimum score of five-hundred to pass.

Soon it was Xenovia's turn, and like Irina when she stepped out from the gate, they didn't speak much about their experience. At least Irina smiled. Xenovia just kept a frown over her face and stood silently by herself in contemplation. Eventually though, both managed to get over their tests, and return to normal just as his name was finally called last.

"Shirou Emiya," Griselda sighed. "In the words of the clergy behind me, please try to keep the trouble to a minimum."

He smiled sheepishly and agreed as he stepped up to the gate which opened of its own accord. He raised a brow as his eyes drifted to the necklace around his neck before he sighed in exasperation. Walking in, there was no flash of light that accompanied his entrance like it had for the other examinees, but rather, he just felt a wave of invisible energy wash through him.

And then, and then it was dark.

Hushed whispers and hurried footsteps echoed around him.

Within the dark, in front of him stood a boy who's features and outlines were obscured by dark shadows. Similarly, across from the boy, was a whole group of people holding in their hands what looked to be a manifestation of primal evil and sin.

The faces on those people were, like the boy, shadowed, but he was still able to make out their expressions of guilt and remorse in their sunken eyes. The whispers he had heard before became clear as the people threw the manifestations they held within their hands at the boy like hard stones.

 _Evil must be contained._

 _Only one must bear it all._

 _Only one must be condemned to save the rest._

They were harsh words whose meanings could not be misinterpreted. He felt a deep loathing swelling from within him, but the feeling quickly vanished as he noticed the tears, like droplets of falling rain, drip down from the faces of the prosecutors.

Images appeared within his mind originating from the memories of the people tossing the representations of evil.

A man stood over his ill and dying daughter.

A mother crying as she stood alone within a deserted town plagued by a vile writhing filth.

 _When evil runs rampant in the world, what else could we have done?_

It was as if the people were staring directly at him, and whispering such a question directly into his ear. He didn't know what to say. In fact, he couldn't even speak at the moment as the boy who had once been obscured in the shadows suddenly appeared before him.

He was a child no older than five, yet he was empty.

Without knowing love.

Without knowing compassion.

A child born for the single purpose of shouldering an insurmountable burden.

Living in pain.

And Living in sorrow.

Without even knowing the meaning of his own existence.

The two stared at each other, and soon everything changed.

He was staring up from a deep well, the only source of light stemming from the distant surface. The sound of trickling water echoing around him, and even then, it only served to amplify the sudden feeling of loneliness from within him. To fuel an ever-growing anger.

A curse to set upon the world.

His curse to bear.

Everyday seemed to pass on in the same way with him staring yearnfully at that distant light. He had grown hollow, as if nothing really mattered anymore except the brewing evil constantly poured down upon him.

It was unfair.

Unjust.

Maddening even, yet he did not so much as even flinch in the face of all the hardship.

After all, he was empty.

The necessary sacrifice.

An individual that couldn't be saved.

He looked down at his hands, and suddenly he realized he was staring at the boy once again. All of the feelings he had felt were gone as he began to understand that those feelings were never his, but those of the child in front of him.

"Hey mister," the boy spoke each word slowly, using what limited knowledge he was able to understand. "Are you empty too?"

 _Chasing after ideals that aren't even yours_ , the words Archer had spoken back then echoed within his mind, images of a child walking ceaselessly though an un-Holy fire subsequently surfacing.

He kept quiet, and the boy simply stared at him expressionlessly, neither knowing grief, nor disappointment.

Suddenly he was back on the surface, standing in between the boy and the crowd of people, comprehension dawning over him.

This was his choice to make, his decision alone. To save the boy, and condemn the masses to the manifestations of evil in their hands, or condemn the boy alone.

The manifestation in the hands of the people were their own sins and emotions of greed and hatred, the evil in their hearts. Yet the boy had done nothing to deserve being a scapegoat.

He closed his eyes, and considered everything.

The emotions he had felt.

And the images he had seen.

He opened his eyes, a determined light shining within them as he stepped forward towards the boy with purpose.

As he made his choice, the necklace around his neck began to release its glow, and hidden deep within, a dark energy began to stir, intrigued about the choice to be made.

* * *

As Griselda had watched that youth step through the gates of the second trial, she couldn't help but begin to speculate about the result. Not only was his performance during the first test phenomenal, it bordered on impossible. She had heard the rumours concerning the jewel, and admittedly they were true. As a relic of the Great War of the Factions, and a tool used by the angel of judgement himself, it was meant as a gift to the devote to appraise the following generations of Holy Sword Users. For all intents and purposes, it was a relic even used to judge the light capabilities of angels before it was granted to humankind. It shouldn't have broken.

She pondered silently to herself. Although blessed, the boy was still human. So, how was it possible that the ancient relic got destroyed by the amount of light energy contained within a human body? Her brows knit together the longer she thought on the matter before a stunning realization came upon her. Saints were people who contained an abnormally high amount of light energy, but even they should not have been able to shatter an artifact made from the heavens. Therefore, only one exception could exist and that was-

Her eyes widened, and she couldn't help but swallow nervously as a borderline insane trail of thought took root in her mind.

"Sister Quarta?" One of the clergy called her name from behind her.

She turned around to face him, and was met with the numerous stares of other high standing Priests and Nuns. "Is there something you all need?"

"No, but rather there are just a few questions on our mind that we hope that you would answer," the head priest of Irina Shidou's church spoke up. He had admittedly been quite arrogant at the start of the trials, but it was more of a show of the faith he held for Irina. It was only after witnessing the shattering of the Holy relic that he was forced to dampen his mood. He sighed. "Did you really train that child?" He asked.

"Yes," she didn't hesitate to speak the truth and gave her evaluation. "He is," she closed her mouth for a moment, trying to come up with a suitable response. "He is someone that I believe only appearance once in times of salvation, and even I myself do not understand why I feel this way. You haven't sensed it yet, but he also possesses a Holy Aura."

"T-Truly?"

The congression of Priests and Nuns couldn't help but exclaim. It was after all, the correct response. A Holy Aura would not mean much to the younger generation, but rather they could only appreciate it for the warm and tender feeling it exuded. However, for the older generation, the significance was far greater. A Holy Aura signified a Holy man. Such people included individuals such as John, Peter, and Nicholas, all of which had become Saints.

The future a Holy Man had in the Church was truly limitless, but it also scaled in accordance to their rarity. Which was why the Priests and Nuns were so taken aback.

"Where did you find him?" One of the more composed priests asked.

"By the Church creek," she answered.

"Then he's the Holy Man of the Church Creek?" A Nun asked incredulously.

A befuddled look appeared on Griselda's face. It wasn't that the Nun was wrong, but there was just something about the name that implied a childish sense of mischief. Probably because it was just so ridicules that a potential Saint originated from a such an obscure location. Although there was also John the Baptist, but his life did not begin from baptising people with water from the river Jordan.

She shook her head, and reluctantly didn't criticize the name the Nun proposed. There were no flaws in it after all.

"What do you think his performance will be?"

The question was sudden, but she had already been thinking about it.

"It is uncertain," she spoke. "This test doesn't rely on the amount of light energy found in an individual, but rather the mentality of the individual. It would be far too difficult for a selfish person, and even regular examinees to pass. Of the three tests, it is without a doubt, the hardest."

The other Priests and Nuns gave a nod of consent. Everything she had said was true after all.

"Then we can only wait," was the only consensus reached.

It was after over half an hour had gone by that they sensed that something was wrong.

All the other examinees had exited from the gates within fifteen minutes, the maximum being twenty, yet Shirou was still in there.

A worried expression crossed Xenovia's face for the briefest of moments before she quickly hid it behind a frosty exterior.

The same could not be said for Irinia however. She was the type of girl who readily expressed how she felt even without words needing to be conveyed.

All of this was seen by Griselda, and it only served to increase the sense of urgency beginning to take root in her mind. This wasn't normal. Then again, Shirou wasn't normal either, and she didn't mean that in a bad way.

It was when they heard the distinct sound of creaking, that all eyes turned towards the gate expecting Shirou to come out. Far from expectations however, he wasn't there and instead, there was a steady beating thrum originating from the gates of the second trial; the ivy and plant growth covering the left gate withering away, as the gold plated right gate began to lose its luster.

What was happening was truly inconceivable. Even the measuring device that displayed the score of the examinees through brightly lit numbers was spinning completely out of control.

Someone gasped when the first crack appeared.

She herself felt an undeniable sinking feeling in her gut.

"Not another one, _please_ not another one," the head priest of the Church hosting the trials began to pray earnestly. It was not enough that the Holy relic was destroyed while under his possession, but now the Gate of Inner Vision too? How was he supposed to explain this to the Vatican, or even Heaven's representatives?

His face began to lose all colour as he watched more and more cracks appear on the gate. " _Griselda?!_ " He yelled pitifully, the ramblings of a kicked dog.

She sighed. At this point it couldn't be helped. "I will shoulder some responsibility as the fault lies in my student." _She would be remembering this for the next training session._

As the cracks spread further, the left gate crashed to the ground, the reverberating sound of metal echoing across the silent room as the right one soon followed.

Even with her promise to shoulder a part of the responsibility, the head priest of the Church held his head between his hands and was muttering quietly to himself. It was conduct inappropriate for the leader of the Church, but she supposed this could be an exception. It wasn't very often that one would find themselves in a situation where they would have to explain just how _two_ Heaven granted treasures were destroyed.

However, what truly puzzled her was just exactly that, how?

Based on the way the Gate of Inner Vision operated, it wasn't conceivable that it would break. It wasn't like the ancient Relic of the First Trial as there was no way to overload it, let alone destroy it.

The second trial operated on the bases of Integrity. Without integrity, regardless if one possessed enough light energy within their bodies, how could they be trusted not to turn rogue? A brief example would be Freed Sellzen, a Church exorcist that went rogue after losing himself in his own blood-lust and twisted mentality. He had been promising, someone who possessed just as much light attribute as her daughter, but he didn't even hesitate to leave the teachings of the Church. It was fortunate, however, that he was not able enough to obtain a Holy Sword.

After all, he had failed at this very same trial.

The trial was different per examinee as it based the world it created off of something it had glimpsed off of the individual. This was why the gates would release a faint glow after each examinee walked past them, but Shirou was the exception. Not only did it not release a faint glow, but the gates voluntarily opened for him, beckoning him forward.

The question was, what did all that mean? And what sort of world was Shirou present in?

In the second trial, even if each world it created was different, there was always the same fundamental outcome; a choice even the most practical of individuals would find hard to choose. Everything was also made all the more real as the Gate had the properties of complete hypnosis, making the choice that much harder. It wouldn't be much of a surprise if the people who walked in believed that they were transported to the past of their regrets, or into a situation where they could do nothing but decide between what was most important to them. Because, after all, it was a common occurrence.

Often the hardest choices involve the biggest regrets and consequences.

In this way, it could be said that this trial was designed to make examinees fail. Their score was represented by the length of hesitation in their actions, and the remorse they would feel knowing what they had decided to sacrifice. Say, a choice between saving one's lover, or one's family. The integrity of an individual is not solely based on their actions or capabilities, but the motivations and regret driving them forward to their decision.

It was like a choice of killing one for a hundred, all the while mourning the loss of that one.

It really was the worst kind of trial, but in this way, it would allow the examinee to grow from the experience without actually having the situation become reality. This trial should only strengthen their conviction.

The exceptions were people such as Freed Sellzen who held no notions of guilt after deciding his choice.

As the gates began to break into pieces on the ground, she couldn't help but recall some of her past suspicions. There was always something about this trial that bothered her. As a tool created within the Heavens, was its function really only hypnosis?

She snapped out of her musings as the sound of steps began to echo out. Was the trial over?

Not only her gaze, but everyone's turned to face the sound.

As the steady clicks of shoes stepping against the floor grew louder, so too did people realize that it was coming from the direction of the destroyed gate.

One moment he wasn't there, and in the next, Shirou appeared, his arrival signalling the complete evaporation of the gate. All that remained was the steadily deteriorating decorations added after the gate's creation.

Faint traces of black markings could be seen visible beneath his skin before they faded away to be replaced by the familiar Holy Aura. Feelings of veneration were beginning to swell from within her as she was bathed in it, but she quickly gained control of herself. After all, she had already been in the presence of someone with equal, if not a greater Holy Aura: Michael of the Seraphim.

However, others did not have the same opportunity, their expressions frozen in shock. Even Xenovia, for all the training she had given to her to hide her emotions, was unable to hold back the astonishment in her eyes.

And through it all, as if believing the stares directed at him were reprimanding him for destroying yet another artifact, Shirou quietly bowed again and again, his face flushing in embarrassment.

The action only served to bring hers and everyone's attention onto the measuring device that had long ago stopped spinning and displayed a simple figure beneath Shirou's feet.

Near faded completely along with the remains of the gate, it was still possible to see the figure displayed: a horizontal eight, the mark of infinity.

She sucked in a breath, her vision swimming. That sort of score wasn't possible. As such it could only mean one thing, a score that could not be measured.

As Shirou grew uncomfortable in the silence, it was Irina Shidou who involuntarily asked the question on everyone's minds. "W-What happened in there?" She asked. "What choice did you make?" Her voice grew quieter as she thought back to her own experience, her mood growing somber. "Who did you save?"

Yes, it was exactly the question running through Griselda's own mind. Who did Shirou save? Regardless of the world displayed by the artifact, it always presented the decision to save one or another. What was his choice?

She and the procession of Priests and Nuns, listened intently for the answer.

"Well," Shirou scratched his head uncertainly, still flustered that he had broken yet another device.

However, he answered anyway as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I just saved them both."

* * *

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	4. The Trials: Part 3

Someone ended up swallowing.

It wasn't that the sound was loud, but rather, in the befuddled silence, it became fairly obvious. The person in question seemed to realize this as a flush began to creep its way up his neck, yet no one took notice.

What took precedence in the current moment was the visibly repenting youth at the center of all attention. His figure was in no way straight, but rather seemed to be at an eternal ninety bent at the waist. At least the white cloak he wore ended up covering his head when he bowed in apology, otherwise they would have been able to make out his flustered expression.

This youth was naturally Shirou Emiya.

It really hadn't been that long since he'd stepped out from the gate and gave his answer, but somehow, he had the urge to step back and commit himself to more torment than endure this embarrassment. He was never good at being the center of attention, yet fate would have him withstand the same ordeal time and time again. Matters only became worse when he remembered he couldn't even turn back because he destroyed yet another precious object of the church.

A wave of reluctant depression set in, much like when he saw the food bill composed from just Saber's and Fujimura Taiga's eating habits alone.

Still, how could he ever repay that which he'd broken?

Things weren't like home where he held a job to pay the bills. In fact, he had no source of income where he was now, and even then, how much would be required to pay off something Xenovia had discreetly whispered to him as priceless?

 _"_ _If you believe, there will always be a way,"_ The voice in the necklace spoke.

He didn't respond back and just grunted. As if believing would help him at this point.

Not surprisingly, the first to compose herself in the crowd was Griselda. She had a contemplative gleam in her eyes, but she masked it away as she stepped forward.

"You truly saved them both?" She asked.

He stared up at her, and nodded as there was no way to take back his previous words.

"Impossible," the Head Priest spoke as he stepped up besides Griselda. "There has never been a way to have the option of both choices. This was a trail of integrity and righteousness."

 _And yet he saved them both._

Was the thought that travelled across people's minds.

Griselda stared at the empty space where the gate used to be at, "perhaps that's why the gate broke down?" She speculated.

None refuted her. It was like an old computer that could not comprehend the action taken, and subsequently malfunctioned.

It was a plausible explanation as most of the factions modeled inventions off of what the humans had made and discovered. In fact, there was intelligence up in Heaven's Investigative Forces about a prominent young heiress of the Seventy-Two Pillars heavily affected by an industry the humans called 'Anime.' Some even hypothesized that it was the sole reason why a High-Class Devil would attend instruction in the human world.

The Head Priest was stunned for a moment before coughing into his hand, a look of trepidation flashing across his face. "Sister Griselda, a word if you would," the priest insisted.

A twitch formed over Griselda's brow before her chest deflated and she conceded.

"The trials will be on hold for a moment. All of you may return to the yard to replenish yourselves," Griselda said as she left.

With that, the room broke out into a series of murmurs as everyone did as instructed, the majority of the people simply trailing behind him as he uselessly tried to ward them away.

It was like they had discovered some sort of new unheard of species with the way they were following after him.

Xenovia and Irina were also in the crowd of followers.

He quickened his pace, and breathed out a sigh of relief when he realized they had stopped following him. Most of them being pulled away by the respective leaders of the various other church representatives who had words to discuss with them. Irina was no exception but she just shook her head and smiled at the priest that accompanied her, confident in her own abilities.

Even from where he was, he could make out the crux of the matter.

With his track record, and the natural abilities Xenovia possessed and displayed, they wanted to discuss any possibilities of victory against them. After all, like Irina, many other church disciples were brought to this little church by a creek in hopes of attaining a Holy Sword. Not only would it be a great honour for their respective churches to have produced a Holy Sword wielder, but the Holy Sword itself would be moved to the protection of their respective church.

"Good job," Xenovia said slowly from beside him, a conflicted expression surfacing over her face.

In a way, he could understand the reason. Earlier in the day, she had implied that she would surpass him and gain victory in the second trial, yet here she was, defeated again.

"If it helps, he didn't really get a score," Irina spoke from his other side. "Infinity just means he's somewhat special."

Really, he didn't know why the two were following him when Griselda had just instructed everyone to rest in the yard, but then again, he wasn't exactly keen on going there. If he did, he would once again be the subject of unconcealed attention. Instead, he was going to one of the guest rooms Griselda had given him during his stay at the church. Directly across from it was Xenovia's room.

Xenovia seemed to brighten up after pondering over Irina's words before nodding. "Which means this round didn't count. Therefore, the true battle lies in the third trial," she ended up saying.

He stared helplessly at her because of her continued competitive spirit. Just because they were receiving instruction from the same individual didn't mean that they had to compare themselves. However, he knew that competition could increase one's motivation to new heights, making their strength reach higher levels. Besides, the way she was acting reminded him of how Rin Tohsaka, the top student of his previous world's academy Homurahara, would strive to remain the best at everything. Often, her obsession with appearing perfect would grate on the nerves of his friend, Issei Ryuudou who lived at Fuyuki temple, his intuition strong enough to make him wary of Rin regardless of anything.

"Any chance we can leave these matters aside for now?" He asked as he opened the door to his room. He then quickly realized that Xenovia and Irina were still following, Xenovia stepping into the room before even he himself did.

Stunned silent, he only heard a faint apology as Irina then followed, leaving him to be the last one to enter his own room.

Inside, Xenovia was making herself comfortable as she sat on his plain bed, arranging the two pillows he was provided beside her to lean her head on them. She looked as if she was doing nothing wrong by freely acting as if she owned the place. It was a type of behaviour he knew he wasn't talented enough to handle, his past experiences were proof of that; hell, he could do nothing when Taiga Fujimura, his surrogate elder sister and school teacher, or Rin Tohsaka invaded his home.

At least Irina was more modest, simply sitting at the foot of the bed.

He simply had no words to say at the point when Xenovia gave him an incredulous look as if non-verbally asking him, 'why are you still standing there.'

His brow twitched as he entered the room and closed the door behind him. He then just leaned his back against the wall for there was no way he had enough courage to sit himself down on his own bed at the moment.

There were no chairs in the room as all that was provided was the bed, a small hamper used for dirty laundry, and a well-built dresser that stored the clothes lent to him by Griselda. At least there was a small window he could use to peer into the church's yard, this way he'd know when Grisleda and the other clergy would resume the trials.

There only two reasons why he was participating in the trials in the first place. One being that the voice in the necklace had urged him to, and the second do to more selfish reasons. It was all in part due the memories he held dear of the servant he had summoned in the Holy Grail War.

Saber.

King Arthur.

Arturia.

And the sword he knew in his mind could never be destroyed and be reduced into mere fragments.

"Your work is incredible," Irina end up praising him after a moment. "I think you're guaranteed to obtain a Holy Sword."

Xenovia gave Irina a sideward glance as she spoke, "you're not bad yourself."

"She's right," he said, backing up Xenovia's words. "You have just as much of a chance as either of us to obtain a Holy Sword."

Irina scratched her head as she thanked them both for their praise. She then relaxed as she placed her hands behind her and leaned her weight on them. "Actually, my family already has a Holy Sword," she admitted.

Xenovia's eyes widened.

"Then why participate in this trial for a fragment?" Xenovia asked.

Irina laughed before she gestured with her hands. "Well, about that. The Holy Sword belongs to my Grandfather. Besides, it would be more appropriate for me to obtain a Holy Sword using my own strength."

He nodded as it would indeed be more appropriate. However, he asked the question that's bugging him since the start.

"Why are you both in my room?" He asked. It wasn't technically his room as he was just borrowing it, but after living inside it for so long, he could at least lay some claim to it.

Irina was wide-eyed, and frantically just explained that she had only followed along.

Xenovia was indifferent. "God's teachings state that sharing is a virtue. Therefore, it's your obligation to accommodate us," she said.

His brow twitched, but at least Irina began laughing.

"However," Xenovia said after a moment. "Since we're all here, I might as well tell you both to prepare for an outdoor trip."

Both he and Irina looked at her bewildered.

An outdoor trip?

* * *

Elsewhere.

"You wish to bar him from the last trial?" Griselda asked critically, a brow raised.

The Head Priest seemed to wilt under her gaze, but quickly regained his senses. "It's not my intention," the man spoke nervously. "A suggestion is all it is."

She didn't speak as only a glance was necessary to determine what the man across from her was thinking.

"You can't honestly believe he'd break the Dimensional Cross, do you?" She asked.

The Dimensional Cross was a cross utilized in the final trial of combat.

The trial of combat was a necessary trail as one could not freely give out a Holy Sword to one who had no talent in the blade. True it was possible to learn, but if the three trials could root out individuals who had both aptitude and ability, it saved the church a lot of time. However, if indeed there was a case where only a single individual had the qualifications to wield a Holy Sword yet didn't possess the required ability, then at that point, all the church could do was invest.

However, to determine such a result, the Dimensional Cross proved vital. Much like the Devils 'Rated Games,' matches designed in the fashion of chess pieces to determine the standing of Devil aristocracy, a different dimension was created to host individuals. In this way, participant's abilities are not hindered by the environmental damages or personal and inflicted damages. This fact is mainly in part due to the systems safety features.

In a Devil's rating game, to protect themselves from strenuous injuries that bordered on the severe, a mechanism would instantly pull them to safety. The dimension created by the Dimensional Cross was the same except for a difference in method to leave the space. After all, different from the dimension created from the Devil's Rating Games, the Dimensional Cross's dimension had an accelerated time frame.

This was designed by its maker up in Heaven as a method to increase the strength of its forces on earth. As a matter of fact, many of the other churches raising and training young exorcists had similar, yet weaker devices than the one used for the sword trials. This was all due to simple reasoning with one thought in mind by those in Heaven.

How could humans obtain the strength to rival Devils?

Not only were human bodies different from Devils, but their magical reserves were naturally much smaller than even the weakest of Devils. The only exception being the freaks in the human race called mages that were born with absurd levels of magical power, and even still a majority of them took up contracts with higher level beings. The vast majority however, could not possibly contend with higher ranked beings.

This may very well have been the reason for God to have created the Sacred Gears for the humans with some even being on the Longinus level: A level high enough to kill a god.

Be that as it may, even Sacred Gears could not accommodate for much in the entirety of the Human race. Thus, was the purpose of artifacts like the Dimensional Cross from the Three-Factions War. Time in the dimension was faster than time in reality, one day's equivalence to two-or-three months to allow the humans the most amount of time to grow stronger in a short time frame.

Yet human life spans were only so short, most people aging too fast within the space should they stay for too long. Therefore, Heaven had made it so mortal flesh would not age in the dimension much like the creatures present in the Garden of Eden.

As such, something so complex should have no room for error.

Still, the Head Priest looked concerned.

"You can't honestly believe he'd break the Dimensional Cross, do you?" She repeated her question as the Head Priest had yet to answer. However, an odd maddened glint appeared in his eyes.

"Absolutely not," the priest said without shame. "With his record, I fear he'd break the sword itself!"

She blinked, taking a moment to digest the words she'd just heard, and then promptly burst into restrained laughter.

Spittle flew into the air as she tried hard to smother her outburst, but to no avail. Even the hand she placed in front of her mouth did little to help.

"It's not funny," the priest dejectedly spoke in all seriousness.

She just laughed harder.

Still, this was the final trial.

Perhaps he could create another miracle?

* * *

Griselda and the Head Priest had returned with the procession of clergy announcing the recommencement of the trials.

At this point, he, Xenovia, and Irina had already made their way back, and were standing amidst the participants in the yard. A clamour broke out as soon as he came near, but the commotion was forcibly suppressed by the admonishing gazes of the church staff and representatives.

No matter one's performance in the trials, it wouldn't do to be so fixated on events that have already transpired. It would only be later when the various groups dispersed back towards their respective places of origin that news would quickly spread within the church and Heaven's forces. The events that had already transpired were too much of a shock for anyone involved not to leak anything.

"If you would all follow us back into the church," the Head Priest spoke quietly as he motioned towards the open doors of the church's entrance.

Griselda stood on the opposite side of the priest, and she too motioned for everyone to make their way in, giving a stern glare to anyone speaking out of place.

No one else dared speak after that, and hastily followed.

They were led back into the same room that hosted the Second Trial, and Griselda took her position up at the podium.

"As you all should know, the trials are meant to determine who amongst the proposed candidates can wield a fragment of the Holy Sword Excalibur," she said formally.

"The First Trial was meant to weed out those without an optimum amount of light energy necessary to even utilize a Holy Sword, but that trial had undergone some unforeseen circumstances."

He realized that everyone was pointedly staring at him.

He muffled an indignant outburst.

It wasn't like he wanted to break it, it just did, and no amount of self-conciliation would wipe away the guilt and embarrassment from the event.

Griselda waited for a moment until she got everyone's attention again.

"As such, almost a third of you present here have not undergone the First Trial, and it is uncertain even if you complete the other two trials if any of you could wield the sword itself. Therefore, it's a gamble based on Heaven's principle of fairness," she admitted.

The words Griselda spoke were like a blow to those who were unable to participate in the first trial, an air of uncertainty hanging above them. They could understand what Griselda meant though. For fairness's sake, they were allowed to participate further, just as God views all as equal.

Griselda continued.

"The Second Trial was to determine heart: Whether or not one possessed the integrity and disposition required of a Holy Sword user, in which case, many of you have passed. Luckily, due to the foresight of my fellow colleagues, an exact repeat of the first incident was avoided, and all of you managed to undergo the trial."

The priests and nuns in the clergy nodded their heads in satisfaction of their actions.

He held back the urge to give them a stink eye.

"As for the Third Trial," Griselda paused for emphasis. "It will undoubtedly be the hardest."

Walking away from the podium, Griselda nodded towards the Head Priest who removed an object from his vestments, and then politely gave it to her. She then showed it for all to see in the crowd.

The object was shaped like a small box that had engravings on all sides portraying a cross made of twine.

"This is an object of the Church called the Dimensional Cross," Griselda spoke. "It produces a separate dimension, a testing ground in which all of you will go. Once there, the rules are simple. Fight to survive. The one's who receive the most points will then be given the opportunity to try their luck in wielding a fragment of Holy Sword Excalibur. However, you should all know that time in this dimension moves faster than time here; a day here equivalent to two-to-three months there."

The candidates began to mutter amongst themselves.

Griselda then continued. "Rest assured though," she said. "Mortals do not age in the realm produced."

She placed the Dimensional Cross down on the podium before motioning with her hands. "I would now ask all of you to each pick up one orb from the display stand in front of you," she said.

The orbs were white in colour and were on a podium-like stand with a soft velvet-cushion acting as a mat on the top.

Prompted by Griselda, soon everyone stepped up and obtained their own orbs.

"These will all be vital to you all in this coming trial as it will not only allow you to leave the dimension of the third trial, it also serves to grade your performance," she said.

"What do you mean?" One of the candidates of the trials asked.

Griselda nodded before speaking. "It allows for the accumulation of battle points, the secondary method of gaining points as the orb only distributes points based on performance. Naturally, the enemies will be numerous depending on the area, therefore one does not need to have a good performance to succeed in this trial. They merely have to have the highest number of points."

Griselda's face turned serious, as did the others of the clergy. "If the situation gets out of hand, crush the sphere, and it will immediately eject you from the dimension created. A Holy Sword is not worth one's life," she said.

The words spoken caused tension to form in the air, but no one voiced any complaints or decided to back out. In that regard, they were all brave.

Smiling lightly, Griselda then pointed at a small weapons rack. "Over there, you may all a pick sword of your choice to be used in the trial. This will be your main weapon and is directly linked with the orbs in your hands. Does everyone understand?"

A series of nods answered her question before everyone then took a weapon.

"Good, then let this trial begin."

Griselda then activated the Dimensional Cross, lightly tossing it in front of the Sword Trial candidates.

A small rip shaped like a vortex began to take form, the cube splitting apart and acting as a border to the vortex.

"Once you step through the portal, you will all be sent at random to different locations in the world created. I wish you all good luck, and you all may now step forward one-by-one."

Irina was the first to step through, giving a small smile to him and Xenovia before disappearing. After each person stepped in, a small flash would occur signalling their successful departure to the other side.

Soon it was Xenovia's turn. Not bothering with pleasantries, she simply stepped inside after her eyes met with Griselda's.

Griselda nodded fondly.

A mother's pride.

Candidate after candidate disappeared with flash after flash, drawing his attention to the Dimensional Cross itself.

By the time it was his turn to step through the portal, he noticed an odd fracture in the Dimensional Cross using structural analysis. The fracture didn't seem to have any effect on the artifact itself, nor did it appear to cause any fluctuations in the artifact's functions which were exactly as described by Griselda. Therefore, he decided to ignore it for the time being as he proceeded forward.

 _"_ _Something's not right,"_ the voice in the necklace muttered as he stepped across dimensions.

He frowned after hearing the voice, remembering exactly what he had just seen. Still, he couldn't do anything about it anymore as he and the others were already inside.

He appeared in a heavily forested region with the humidity of the area causing a thin sheen of sweat to form over his brow.

Xenovia had told him to prepare for an outdoor trip.

Now he knew why.

It was his fault for being oblivious to it, otherwise he would have had the chance to ask for supplies from the church staff. He shook his head after thinking of such things, it wouldn't help him now.

Walking, he decided to survey the area around him, a foreboding feeling welling up from within his gut. At this point, he was half expecting the ground to blow up from beneath him knowing his luck.

The foreboding feeling only grew worse when he realized that the necklace around his neck was thrumming. Proceeding forward, in an act of quick judgment, he jumped up onto a tree.

Seconds later,

What appeared before him where he had just stood, was a group of winged metal figures. They were human like with indistinct features, the only visible aspect to take note of was the craftsmanship of their make. Even the chiseled metal designed to look like clothes appeared life-like and were modeled after a priest's garb.

None in the group had spotted him, so he slowly made his retreat back into the foliage. However, he was caught unprepared when one suddenly appeared behind his back.

The metal figure had four wings which was double the amount of the group he had just retreated from.

It stared at him for a moment before immediately drawing forth a retractable lance that appeared from a chamber at the thing's back.

Grimacing, he realized that if he fought where he was now, he would alert the other group of these things to his location.

He immediately fled, using his enhanced sight to run in a path without any enemies.

Moments later, the necklace around his neck gave off a faint light that seemed to direct him towards a location. Following, he arrived at an open clearing with a few trees in the area.

The area was quiet, with no visible threats around him.

It would do.

Turning around, the metal thing entered his view; its body hovering over the ground. Brandishing its lance, it charged forward.

His eyes narrowed, and he immediately took out a hilt which soon erupted into a sword of light. It was the weapon provided by the church at the beginning of the trial, and he knew clearly of its uses. After all, he needed it to obtain combat points, and he had long before concluded that these metal things were what was needed for him to earn them.

The thing charged forward, stabbing forth with its lance, but he was too fast and dived beneath it, stabbing at the opening provided.

His sword met metal, and instantly his arm met a resistance that surprised him. From Griselda's explanation of light energy, it could easily pierce the defences of even high class devils, and yet he was having trouble following through with his attack.

The metal thing didn't care even if the blade was digging into its metal flesh. It raised its lance once again and tried to strike out, only for him to forcible block the swing of its arm using his own arm.

His situation was not advantageous.

He steeled himself and placed both hands on the hilt of his sword.

The thing swiftly attacked him again.

He didn't care, and instead used all his force to shove the blade into the thing's body before twisting.

With a groan of metal, the thing stopped moving before the lance in its hand tumbled to the ground, and its arms slumped to its side.

Afterwards, he pulled the sword out of the thing's chest, and shielded his face when the thing imploded on itself.

A flock of birds flew from the forest canopy due to the noise, but by the time anymore of those metal things arrived at the location, he was long gone.

* * *

A few days passed, and he gradually got used to his surroundings.

Currently, he was resting his back against a tree near a fresh water lake he had stumbled upon a day earlier. Luckily, he did not run into anymore of the metal figures, and instead had the time to decide on a course of action.

Suddenly, he heard a noise, and he immediately reacted, turning his gaze towards the lake.

His face seemed to drain of all colour, before immediately colouring a deep red. After all,

A woman was bathing in the lake at the center of his vision.

Water rippled as small droplets travelled down slender arms and a small waist before merging once again with the lake's surface.

The woman had her back facing him, her figure hunching over as she submerged her blue hair into the water and gave it a rinse with her hands.

His body gradually began to heat up because of the view, and inwardly he felt like cursing himself.

He tried to turn his eyes away, however he became petrified as the woman turned around in his direction while absently wiping off the sweat and grime on her body. The residue of the water clung to her skin, seeming to make her shine in the radiance of the early morning light.

In that moment after she turned around, an awkward silence persisted.

Xenovia's face was utterly blank, the only other change was the gradual flushing of her cheeks which was, admittedly, quite endearing. Her hands then went to cover the center of her overly ample breasts before she lowered her body into the water, a murderous aura permeating around her.

 _"_ _For some reason, even I can't tell if your luck is good or bad,"_ the voice in the necklace sighed before fading slightly. _"But I can assure you that it will be very, very, bad if you don't turn away now."_

The voice snapped him out of his stunned state, and instantly he turned away.

The swishing of water entered his ears followed closely by the dripping of droplets on the ground as he assumed that Xenovia had come to shore.

He shivered.

With her personality, there was no way she would let this go so easily.

A tingling sensation ran down his back before his head swerved to the side as a quick wind rushed past his left ear.

He was correct.

Mostly.

"You dodged," Xenovia spoke coldly before clicking her tongue, and then moving on to place her clothes back on as she warned, "you better not turn around."

Noted, he reminded himself as his eyes stared at the splintered tree in front of him.

 _"_ _Have humans always possessed this kind of natural strength?"_ The voice in his necklace seemed taken aback.

The tree he had once been leaning his back on had nearly broken with but a single punch form Xenovia.

He didn't have an answer to the voice in the necklace.

"Before you do anything, let me just say, I didn't mean to," he said.

"Oh?" Xenovia's voice was disbelieving.

He then went on to explain how he'd been staying in the area by the lake for more than a day, and as such couldn't be held at fault sine he was there first.

Even to his ears it sounded flimsy, but she reluctantly accepted his reasoning, and moments later, the both of them had decided to sit down near the lake at an open patch of land. It was near high-noon, and Xenovia unceremoniously dropped her bags on the ground and began rummaging through them, her stomach growling softly.

Soon, she ended up finding what she wanted in the form of dry ration bars, most of which she knew she would have to force herself to eat. Following the ration bars then came a bottle of water which she then used to rinse a couple of apples she had found in the forest.

"I see you're prepared," he said smiling wryly.

She had once told him to prepare for an outdoor trip, obviously, he didn't understand and had come with nothing. She didn't pity him, or show any internal conflicts due to the indignation she had just endured moments prior, that at least he could understand.

Therefore, as she sat across from him peeling the wrapper off her food, she was glaring at him.

"I'm not sharing," she said as she took a bite, and then grimaced from the bland taste.

He shrugged as he had nothing to argue about with her, rather he was quite thankful that she chose not to pursue the previous matter. Still, based on what Griselda had said, he wasn't sure how long he would have to remain in the dimension. Thus, food was a must.

His eyes scanned across the forest and the shrubbery, his subconscious use of structural analysis aiding him greatly as his face lit up.

That, that was…?

He immediately set off towards the forest, Xenovia's eyes curiously staring at his back.

In a few moments, he arrived in front of a tree he didn't think he would find in the forest, then again, this forest was just plain weird. Plants that should only be able to grow in the tropics, and plants from milder climates all grew here in harmony. In particular, he set his eyes on a large vascular leaf that resembled the shape of spinach.

The leaf itself was fleshy and larger than his head, so, he easily ended up making a bowl out of it before he returned to the tree he had been at previously.

Using the sword provided for him at the start, he cut a small hole into the tree, and placed his hand-made bowl beneath, grinning as fresh sap began flowing down. He didn't know much about Western Cuisine involving tree sap, but he did know what tree sap was, a natural sugar.

Uprooting a large stem from the ground, he reinforced it and used it to tie up the hand-made bowl before moving on to gather a few more things in the shrubs.

He then arrived back to where Xenovia was slowly eating away at her food, her eyes widening as she saw him. After all, he was carrying a wide assortment of edible plant and things he had collected in the forest. He didn't get any meat, but at least he wasn't too hungry.

Setting up a fire, he propped up pieces of wood and a few sticks to create an improvised cooking spit. He then took out another large vascular leaf he had harvested and went to the lake to fill it up with water.

He reinforced it before he soon tied it to the spit, and began boiling it under the fire. The natural water found within the leaf made it so that it was hard to burn, and the extra reinforcement made it as durable as a regular metal bowl. Without pause, he then added the items he had gathered in the forest as the water came to a boil, the colour changing from transparent to a light creamy yellow as he stirred. Near the end, he added a touch of sap, and stirred it once more, letting it sit for a while and boil to spread the flavour in the soup.

All this time, Xenovia had been silently watching, the rate in which she was eating slowly coming to a crawl before stopping entirely as the smell invaded her nose. She didn't realize it, but the ration bar she had kept in her hand had long ago fallen to the ground.

Smiling at her, he produced a small bowl made out of a leaf before pouring some soup inside.

"Do you not want any?" He asked.

A conflicted expression flashed across Xenovia's face. "N-No," she denied decisively.

However, he could instantly understand what her problem was. Moments earlier, she had refused to share her food, how could she possibly put up with it if he shared his with her?

"Fine, then let's do it like this," he spoke as he snatched the half-eaten ration bar Xenovia had unknowingly dropped onto the ground. "Now we're even if you take half of mine."

He smiled at her befuddled look as her mind finally caught up with what he had done. Instead of saying anything though, her eyes simply locked onto her half-eaten ration bar, heat flooding into her face. "That's m-mi-"

He took a bite of the ration bar before staring at her questioningly.

She crossed her arms, and turned her face away, but no longer refused when he handed her a portion of the soup.

Still, something didn't seem quite right with her as she avoided making eye-contact with him while keeping a straight face.

The two soon lapsed into silence as they began working on their food. Moments later, he now understood why Xenovia had grimaced after chewing on the ration bar. Bland would be an understatement.

He watched discreetly as her face lit up after taking a bite of food, feelings of accomplishment welling up from within him.

After the two of them finished eating, they begun to discuss what they've both been through already in the past few days.

Xenovia explained that she had started off in a remote region with large rocks and a few white-peaked mountains a distance away from her. She had then moved on in the opposite direction from the mountains towards the forested region she had spotted from her location.

On the way, she had at most run into some wildlife, but nothing to dangerous. If anything, the only thing that disturbed her was that she was beginning to smell after travelling for several days. Thus, when she spotted the lake, she had no hesitation and had immediately set off for it. This led her to her present situation.

After Xenovia had finished talking, he then told her of his own circumstances, drawing out a gasp.

"A four-winged sentinel?" Xenovia asked.

"A sentinel?" He replied back confused.

Grunting, Xenovia began to explain everything Griselda had told her in detail.

Sentinels were the metal-made guardians of the dimensional space created, and were modeled after the likeness of the angels in heaven. As such, each sentinel's individual strength was determined by the number of wings one possessed. In this way, human exorcists and even lower ranked angels could determine how far off they were in power when compared to an angel of higher rank. This was invaluable as higher ranked angels would have an equivalence in power to other higher ranked devils.

A standard could be set.

"And you already defeated a four-winged sentinel?" Xenovia asked curiously.

"When you put it that way, then yes," he replied.

Xenovia fell silent before standing up resolutely.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Finding my own," she said.

After all, with what Griselda had said, the enemies in the dimension were numerous depending on the area.

"Then I'm coming with you. I spotted way more than just one previously," he said.

Xenovia stared at him for a while before agreeing.

The two walked in the forest after deciding on a general direction, idle banter helping to pass the time. In which case, the topic of the Second Trial was once again brought up by Xenovia.

He sighed before he began to just explain what had happened to him. There were two sides in the world shown to him in the Second Trial. One, a child condemned by the masses, and two, the weight of the evil plaguing the world's people.

"The choice I was supposed to make was between who to save. The one, or the many, however," his eyes hardened as he spoke. " _I couldn't accept it._ "

Xenovia had an astonished look on her face. "Then you bore the curse onto yourself?" She asked.

He nodded. It was the only choice to be made to save them both, even at the cost of his own well being.

Xenovia seemed to look at him in a new light.

His level of selflessness was simply unheard off. Many could say that they wished to save everyone, but not many would risk themselves in the process. What he did, not many could, and that was what impressed Xenovia.

A couple days soon passed with the two spending much of the time talking, and at other times looking for food. They had stumbled upon a river at some point, and had even been able to catch some fish. However, to Xenovia's disappointment, for some reason they were unable to find any winged-sentinels in the area.

Soon, a week passed.

"Are you sure it was around here?" Xenovia asked as she furrowed her brows.

He didn't respond straight away and just pointed at the damaged trees and plants. He frowned, this is indeed where he had fought the four-winged sentinel. His eyes blinked before he crouched down and inspected something he saw.

"Foot prints," he said.

It couldn't have come from a sentinel as they all just hovered slightly above the ground. This meant that, "someone was here," he said. "From the amount of foot prints, perhaps it was a group of three or four."

"Is that so?" Xenovia said after taking a moment to ponder. "Then the sentinels probably gave chase."

"Most likely," he agreed before his eyes followed the trial of foot prints, marks left behind by the crushed grass. "From these tracks, they must have been here recently."

Because the grass was still crushed, it meant that the grass did not have enough have enough time to slowly spring back.

"Let's hurry then," Xenovia said as she walked forward with a quickened pace.

It didn't take long for the sounds of fighting to reach their ears, and it was even shorter for them to arrive on scene.

What they saw was a group of three candidates huddled with their backs facing each other surrounded by a group of two and four winged-sentinels. The white cloaks that the three wore had long ago been reduced to nothing but rags clinging to their skin, but at least their injuries weren't very severe. Two of them were boys, and the last of three was a girl. Of the three, she appeared to be the one less injured, but was also the one unlucky enough to be having to deflect attacks from two four-winged sentinels who wielded their own weapons in hand.

Explosive lances, Xenovia had explained.

As winged-sentinels were automatons, they did not possess the ability to utilize light based attacks, and instead were augmented with strong weaponry. The explosive lance was a heavily favored weapon of the winged-sentinels as a burst of energy would explode upon the lance's tip making contact with anything. Which was unfortunately what happened to the girl trying to block the four-winged sentinels

She had been doing a splendid job avoiding the tip of the lances by deflecting them by the shaft, but her endurance had already steadily been eaten away.

With a boom, she was blown away from the formation the three had set up, the other two calling out to her in panic, but were unable to help as they were once again pressured by the other sentinels.

Cursing, the girl spat out blood before her eyes widened as she saw the four-winged sentinels moving in on her. Staggering to her feet, she realized that she didn't have enough strength to put up any sort of resistance anymore.

Bitterly, she pulled out the orb Griselda had instructed to be taken at the beginning. Using it now would mean the end of the trial for her, and any hopes she had of wielding a fragment of Holy Sword Excalibur. However, after a mere instant, she decisively came to a decision.

She crushed the ball of light in her hand.

A look of surprise soon flashed across the girl's face at that moment however,

Because nothing happened.

* * *

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	5. The Trials: Part 4

It can be said that Shirou was used to such situations. In fact, it was particularly because of this that he could act before anyone else could.

He threw his sword.

With a resounding ding, the trajectory of the tip of the lance was altered and missed its course, hitting air as a startled Xenovia made her way to stand in front of the injured girl.

He on the other hand moved to intercept the approach of the other four-winged sentinels.

"Shirou!" Xenovia called, tossing to him the sword he had thrown.

It was the light-based sword the church had provided him. After tossing it, the blade of light had slowly dissipated until only the handle remained as without the infusion of will, its form could not be maintained.

"Thanks," he called, grabbing the hilt of the weapon and instantly reforming the sword.

 _"_ _Aim well,"_ the voice within the necklace spoke. _"If you can see it, there's a spot between the armour that can be easily pierced. A flaw in the design not taken into account for those of six wings or less."_

He could see what the voice meant now that he took the time to utilize structural analysis. The components that made it up were formidable. A type of alloy he had never heard of before, but was witnessing for the first time.

 _"_ _When the angels first fell, none in Heaven had ever believed that a day would come that the source of their light would be used against them. This metal shell was the product and resolution of that problem,"_ the necklace explained.

Regardless, his grip around his sword tightened before he drew in towards the enemy.

He did not possess Saber's superior swordsmanship, nor did he possess the confidence to be anywhere near her level yet, but he did at least have hers and Griselda's training.

Thinking on the subject, he wondered how those two were doing without him, but ultimately had to put such thoughts on hold as the winged sentinels struck forth with their weapons.

Timing was everything in a battle.

The images he had seen.

The battles that Archer had fought.

They weren't the memories of someone who's skill was unreachable. Rather,

He was simply staring at a representation of himself, and the ability he possessed.

Although he loathed that existence, the skill displayed was the extent of his own.

 _Trace. On._

His body flooded with power. An inner circuitry and framework of steel and iron that came to life in an internal explosion of fire. Ultimately, this was his path. A means until his end.

 _Left arm, two inches down, an inch to the right._

Strike!

His body twisted as he stabbed forth, his sword penetrating deeply into the first four-winged sentinel's chest and caving it in. Of the three four-winged sentinels that had come in pursuit of the girl, one of them exploded in a combustion of white flame.

Yet perhaps due to that explosion, what seemed like an army of them appeared floating within the sky, a majority of them four-winged. Even the one's that had previously been pressuring the other examinees rose into the air.

Xenovia swallowed, her face paling as the severity of the situation seemed to settle within her mind. They were surrounded with no way out, and even the orbs the church had provided were proven useless.

In a way, he could understand if she felt any feelings of hopelessness. In fact, even the girl behind Xenovia was wearing a despondent look, her eyes glancing from the broken orb in her hand to the sentinels in the air before growing detached.

Still, however hopeless the situation may seem, nothing was ever certain.

Would he have to use them now, the weapons of his armoury?

The image of the winged sentinels flickered in his eyes, his expression hardening as circuitry like patterns emerged from within his body; a physical representation of his flowing magical energy let loose.

The necklace around his neck thrummed, releasing a visible light that bathed the area.

 _"_ _The courage you displayed has long since passed any test I've had for you, and the selflessness of your actions has even won over admiration and gratitude from a being who hates all. The strength you wield is no longer just yours alone, but the strength of three, a trinity of power."_

Soon after the voice in the necklace spoke, the once cyan-coloured markings running across his body shifted with patterns of leafless white yew branches that intermingled with a growing blackness that originated from his chest.

A might like none other swelled from within his very being, and the remaining sentinels before him no longer appeared threatening.

 _"_ _This form will not last as you are not yet capable enough. Finish this quickly,"_ the voice within the necklace spoke.

He didn't need to be told to know that. Even now, although he felt the massive surge in power, he knew that the only reason his body could handle it was because of his reinforcement.

Now was the time.

A single burst.

Unknowingly, as his mind came to this single conclusion, an output was produced. The origin of power shifted from his center to his sword, the light energy erupting in a torrent that blasted the ground apart with just the wind force produced alone.

Xenovia shielded her eyes, as did the others in the area.

This wasn't an attack like a Noble Phantasm, crystalized mysteries created using human imagination as their core, no; this attack was far different.

What he could see being released from the sword was the purity of light mixed in with a subtle undertone of dark and tainted energy. He need only release it.

The timing was now.

There could be no other, as the situation would not allow it.

A plethora of various weapons flashed across his mind at that moment. Noble Phantasms with the ability to destroy numerous enemies, yet he dismissed them all.

The sword already in his hand would be enough.

Both hands moved to grip the hilt of the sword, the torrent produced growing ever stronger, and even managing to blow away Xenovia and the rest into the shrubs.

He let out a breath, watching as the sentinels began their charge.

 _"_ _Release the splendor of the Heavens."_

 ** _"_** ** _And release the taint of my curse."_**

Two voices intermixed together at that moment as he swung his sword. One as peaceful as tranquil water, the other gruff and domineering.

With a blinding flash, everything appeared to disappear for an instant. The ground, the trees, the plants, and even the sky, everything seemed to return to an identical shade of white nothingness.

It was then that a frighteningly loud thunder-clap like sound erupted in the stillness, revealing vile pitch black tendrils eating away at the sentinels; the light produced by the swing of the sword beginning to die down.

Moments later, and the world returned to normal, revealing his form still propped at the apex of his swing. Sweat creased his brows, and his breathing was ragged enough to show the visible strain on his body.

Collapsing, he smiled as he saw the others approaching him.

With his previous attack, the sentinels that were previously there appeared as if they had never existed in the first place. If not for the few remaining eroding parts scattered amongst the ground, there would have had been no proof of their presence.

"T-That was incredible!" One of the boys who had been fighting previously said. Currently, the boy in question was absently removing the twigs and branches that clung to his body.

Now that he took a closer look, everyone was.

Previously Xenovia and the others had been blown away straight into the shrubs, thus, their predicament was quite understandable.

"Sorry," he apologized. In the heat of the moment, he had neglected to realize the impact the strong wind generated would have on those standing behind him.

"Sorry?" The girl asked before laughing. "You friggin save our lives and you're the one apologizing?"

Xenovia who had been remaining silent suddenly used this opportunity to open her mouth. "Idiot," she ended up saying with no changes in her facial expression.

"Sorry?" He ended up saying again, causing the other boy to burst into laughter when Xenovia turned herself away.

As it would turn out, the three examinees that they had saved were related brothers and sisters; the sister being the older of the other two by one year, making her the eldest in the group aside from Xenovia and himself who were still older than her.

"Still, this is quite a problem," the eldest sister spoke.

Her features were soft with a rounded face, and a delicate pair of thin eyebrows that made her appear younger than she looked. The fact that she had a flat-chest only seemed to add to this effect.

As for her name, Liliana Marino, he had learned of it quite shortly after they introduced themselves.

Her two brothers were twins and were respectively named Andrea and Antonio Marino. Both of them possessed similar looks with their black hair cropped short, and child like faces. If not for the different colour of their eyes, blue and brown respectively, it would be hard to tell them apart.

"Yes indeed," Andrea spoke to his sister, bending over to inspect the crushed orb fragments still in Liliana's hands.

This matter was extremely troubling, not just for them, but everyone involved in the competition. The orb was meant as an escape to make sure of one's safety within the dimension created by the Dimensional Cross. After all, death in the Dimensional Cross meant true death. This was why Griselda had instructed them on the use of the orbs in the first place.

Xenovia hummed in thought before frowning, chancing a glance at Liliana's direction and the fragment pieces in her hand. However, before thinking much more on the matter, she waited patiently by a fire.

The fire was something he had started firstly to keep everyone warm as night descended, and secondly to prepare some food. This secondary purpose was mostly in part due to the fatigued looks on Liliana and her siblings faces.

He was currently making a stew for an early dinner. With the supplies Liliana, Andrea, Antonio, and Xenovia had on hand, they had more than enough food to last them for the time being.

Still, ever since Xenovia had tasted the food he made, she would sit patiently by the fire like she was doing currently; waiting silently for the food to finish before wordlessly holding out one of her ration bars in a motion to trade.

Even now, in the company of others, her behaviour persisted.

Accepting the ration bar in Xenovia's hand, he gave her a bowl to eat from before turning to Liliana and her siblings.

"So, it didn't work?" He asked, pulling out his own white orb that he had been storing in a pocket within his white cloak, the ones provided by the church.

"No," Liliana spoke gravely. She then looked at Xenovia in befuddlement before nearing him and whispering into his ear.

"As fellow disciples of the same church, I never expected Xenovia Quarta to have that sort of expression on her face," she spoke.

He could understand what Liliana meant looking at the content expression on Xenovia's face after each spoonful. It was if the frosty exterior she had once shown at a time before the Swords Trials was simply melting away.

"She's not a bad person," he said before passing a bowl of the stew to Liliana and her two brothers. "Only a tad misunderstood."

Xenovia grunted from her position sitting a couple meters away. Evidently, she had heard him.

Dinner was a quiet affair with the only commotion beginning when Liliana and her two brothers began to protest Xenovia's attempts at a third serving while they themselves had only had one. Aside from such small matters, the group eventually found themselves a quiet place to sleep for the night to regain their energy after the battle.

Even he was no exception as his body ached from his previous show of strength. It was the same concept of pouring a searing hot liquid into a plastic container. In this case, his body was the plastic, and the energy flooding it was the hot liquid. Just as the plastic would distort, bend, or break in a few places due to the inflow of heat, his body was the same. The energy was just too massive for him to currently handle without receiving some form of damage.

The only one in proper condition was Xenovia whose only damage consisted of getting the twigs and bramble out of her hair. This was why, late into the night, she was practicing silently by herself.

Being as he had yet to fall asleep, he silently watched her, a small admiration beginning to form. Even when he had first met her, she appeared to be of the diligent sort without showing much care about what others thought about her. In a certain type of manor, her bearings reminded him of both Saber and Rin whom he had left behind. Knowing them, they must have been worried, but he could do nothing about that at the moment, but hope that he would be able to find a way back. That being the case, what he had to focus on now was the present, and those who he had to save. Any other one of his problems could be solved at a later point.

With that thought in mind, he still didn't allow himself to fall asleep until he was sure Xenovia had fallen asleep first.

Call him stupid, but he couldn't help but watch the dedication Xenovia placed into her sword even until the very end of her training.

* * *

At the dawn of the next morning, the group woke up early and began to take stock of their supplies before gathering together to discuss on a course of action.

As previously seen in the last battle, due to the matter of the malfunction of the white orbs, the mind set of the entire group had change. This was no longer a competition or trial to wield one of two fragments of Holy Sword Excalibur, but a dangerous situation that they would have to overcome in order to live. In which, staying as a group was their best idea rather than to spread out.

The reasoning of this was because of Griselda's words. Depending on the area, a whole swarm of enemies may be nearby. Take for example the previous battle. What had started off with just perhaps a mere six or so sentinels drew in enough other winged sentinels to blot out the sky.

"We're going to need to locate everyone else," Xenovia spoke decisively.

He nodded. With the orbs not working, the greatest danger lied in venturing alone and taking risks.

After all, this was a competition in order to wield one of two fragments of Holy Sword Excalibur. Thus, when Griselda had explained the concept of battle points, she was encouraging those who did not excel in contributions to risk fighting stronger foes. The stronger the enemy, the more battle points one could achieve upon obtaining victory. However, this also meant that the level of difficulty would be substantially higher. Without the knowledge that the orbs weren't working, death was almost guaranteed to anyone who tried.

With a decision made, Andrea began to explain how he, Liliana, and Antonio were lucky enough to locate each other earlier on due to the advantage of a high ground. In any case, the group of siblings began to recount the direction they had come from, stating that they had not seen anyone else along the way.

That being the case, the group was then left to wander aimlessly, wasting away several hours before they decided to rest. Thee method in which they were searching was highly ineffective, yet it was the only one they had. So, after a quick break with Xenovia goading him into a spar from time to time, they set off once again.

Soon, the forested area they had once been in transitioned to a dry and sweltering area. It was a desert of sorts, large dunes of sand far out in the distance, but with small vegetation like wild grass and the occasional bush growing on top.

Expressions dimming, the group turned back and decided to go in a different direction. The water they were able to refill in the previous day would not last them a trip through a Sahara-like environment.

Another day soon passed with yet again no results. It was as expected though. The dimension created by the Dimension Cross was huge with only sixty or so participants entering within.

Still, dispirited as they were, they continued on.

The question now was, how could they find everyone in a world that was so large?

 _"_ _Head North, then take a detour to the right for about five minutes,"_ the voice inside the necklace spoke.

Expression neutral, he made an excuse to scout ahead, and ventured further out from the group.

It was only when he knew he was entirely alone did he ask, "Is there a reason we should go there?"

 _"_ _I can vaguely sense them, the other participants of this trial. More particularly, it's due to the orbs they still possess and the swords connected to them, so I can only do so if we are near."_

The more he got to understand the voice in the necklace, the more questions he ended up having as a result. In the end, who was this entity that had brought him to this world, and what role did this entity wish for him to fulfill?

He shook his head to get rid of such thoughts. No matter how the voice inside the necklace could sense the others scattered across the world, that wasn't what he should really care about, rather, he was thankful.

Returning back to the group, he then made up an excuse that he saw someone in the distance. Expressions brightening, the group soon left in the direction instructed to him by the voice.

Sure enough, there in the distance were another two examinees. From the look of things, neither of them had yet to run into any trouble, so at least that was a good thing.

Waving, Lilana called out to them as the group approached.

Quickly explaining the current situation, the two other examinees gave them all skeptical looks as if they were crazy. The skepticism quickly disappeared however as Liliana revealed the broken fragments of her own crushed white orb.

The two gaped before one of the two hesitatingly shattered his own white orb, threatening that if this was all a joke then there would be consequences when they returned. Still, when nothing happened and the examinee who'd shattered the orb still remained, everyone present couldn't help but feel a dark pit growing in their stomachs.

With what Griselda had explained, time within the Dimensional Cross was accelerated. Therefore, how long would they have to stay within the dimension before Griselda and the other clergy would find out there was a problem? By then it could already be too late.

The more foreboding question though, prevail ant in their minds, was that even if Griselda and the others knew of the current situation, what could they do to resolve it? The only way would be to have the person who created the device to fix it, but this was a relic of the war between the factions, and the creator had the possibility of already being dead.

With the situation assessed, the two examinees they had met then agreed to come.

Similar situations began to occur more and more as the days passed.

Environments changed during the course of their journey. From the forest they once started at, to the edges of a distant desert, and even to an area similar to the tropical rain forests, every sort of biome seemed to be included in the dimension created.

Not only that, but due to the growing numbers of the group, they had to stop more often to let others catch their breath, and eat food to replenish themselves.

Normally, this wouldn't be much of a problem, but two things became readily apparent as a result. One, they didn't have enough supplies and replenishment to distribute between all of them, therefore, he found himself hunting and foraging for food more than four times a day. It even got the point where Xenovia had offered her help, yet instead of helping, she managed to forage a poisoned breed of mushroom that she nearly put into the food he was making.

She never helped again from then, and instead it was the Marino siblings who were able to gather things that were more edible.

As for the second result, it was quite obvious if one were to think about it. When before they were a small group, it made it much easier to avoid detection from the enemies they ran into. Now though, with the group's larger size, they were almost too large to escape detection.

Fortunately, by asking the other they had gathered together, they were able to determine that they were only missing ten or so more people.

In that regard, it was only ten more people before everyone could focus on determining a way out of the dimension.

Tragedy though would occur in the following weeks.

"We were too late," Andrea spoke, motioning towards the blood-stained remains of an examinee in the distance.

"Mitch, you poor bastard," one of the examinees spoke sadly. Evidently, they were acquainted with the deceased.

Xenovia knelt down by the corpse and gently closed the dismayed eyes of the dead examinee.

The following day would give identical results. More and more dead. Thinking clearly on the subject, he, and many others theorized that after spending almost a month now in the dimensional space, the last few examinees were tired of waiting, and did as Griselda had encouraged; try their luck against an equal or superior foe.

The end result did not need to be said.

Still, what worried him the most was that they had yet to find Irina Shidou. With the level of skill, she possessed, she shouldn't have been defeated so easily unless she was surrounded.

This being the case, there was still one thing he was sure of.

She was still alive.

From the number of corpses, they had passed, not one of them was Irina's.

When the days began to pass, of the ten or so missing people, seven of them were found dead, and the rest injured. It was at this point that many of the people who had followed him before were insisting on finding a safe spot to just hole-up until they could think of a plan to evacuate from the dimension. However, he and many others did not want to give up.

A week later.

He was frowning, his eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean there's no one else?"

Currently, he was out alone looking for food to make for the rest of the people in the group, making this the perfect time to voice his question.

 _"_ _I mean just that, there is no one else to be found in the dimension,"_ the voice inside the necklace spoke.

That wasn't possible. They had still yet to locate Irina, so how could there be no one else? Up until this point, even if the examinee in question was deceased, the voice inside the necklace would always guide him to the location.

The voice inside the necklace was silent for a moment as he waited for an answer.

 _"_ _If you truly insist, then there's a place half-a-day's distance away from here that you can try,"_ the voice inside the necklace relented.

"Thank you," he spoke.

The necklace became silent from there.

Returning to camp, he explained where it was that he was going, and that they didn't have to come with him as it may be dangerous. However, Xenovia was adamant on coming, and so were many others. After all, in the previous weeks, not only did the group not run into any troubles by following, they were more likely to avoid it.

This was due to his enhanced vision, and auditory senses alerting him of any nearby enemies long before they could be spotted, making him the perfect candidate to lead.

Thus, with only a little complaint, the group was once again on the move.

The location they arrived at was a rigid plain of hard rock that ended just off a plateau. On either side of them were the hard bases of two mountain peaks. Wind was blowing gently, and not an enemy appeared in sight. It was almost to tranquil to believe as regardless of the area they had traveled to in the dimension, there was always something they had to be weary of. For example, in the forest environment where they had first begun, there were constant patrols of winged-sentinels. The following places had other dangers such as the searing heat of the desert area, or the precarious heights of a mountain-top.

This new place however, was just as described. Tranquil.

"There's nothing here," Liliana spoke, her eyes glancing around.

"Well, at least it's safe," one of the more recent examinees rescued commented before sitting down to rest.

"Shirou?" Xenovia asked.

Looking at her, he could guess what she was thinking. Like himself, she had gotten acquainted with Irina, and was thus reluctant to believe that Irina was dead.

If there was someone with just as much determination to find Irina than him, it would be Xenovia. Within the church grounds she didn't have much friends other than himself at all. The fact that Irina had taken the initiative to befriend Xenovia was something that Xenovia would not forget.

His forehead creasing, he scratched his head.

Was this really the place? He ended up thinking.

No matter where he looked, there were no trace of Irina at all. Not even any signs he could work with. Therefore, why was he told to come here?

He doubted himself for a moment when he saw something in the distance.

A marking of some kind that was etched into a boulder half-buried underground.

Curiously, he walked towards it, the others following closely behind him.

The examinees began to whisper excitedly amongst themselves as they realized the mark was that of a cross with a circle outlining. Perhaps it could be a sign to help them find a way out of the dimension, or perhaps not. What mattered though for the majority of them was the possibility.

He stepped forward and inspected it, Xenovia close behind as she knew more about such things from Griselda's teachings.

"Do you know what it is?" He ended up asking.

Xenovia shook her head. "No, even if the cross is recognizable, I am not familiar with the rest of the crude markings," she explained.

It wasn't much of a surprise that she didn't know. The Dimensional Cross was quite old, and only the inventor himself would be able to understand the hidden workings within.

"Thanks for trying," he said before giving her a nod.

Nodding back, Xenovia made room for him to further inspect that mark as she saw his intentions.

Just touching it alone did not seem to give any reaction, and regardless of what he did, nothing seemed to work. For all intents and purposes, it really appeared as if it was just an ordinary mark.

This assumption was proven wrong moments later when an examinee unexpectedly managed to touch his white orb onto the engraving.

A turbulent wind blew, causing everyone to shield their eyes as small bits of rock and dust were uplifted from the ground and sent flying. Despite doing so, dust still managed to seep through their fingers.

Moments later, the ground suddenly began shaking, large tremors travelling within the compact stone and creating wide chasms.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," someone said.

"Oh boy," Andrea spoke wearily, his eyes along with many others watching as cracks surrounded the group in something that resembled an oddly shaped circle.

"No one move," Liliana spoke, her face paling by the second.

His eyes darted back and forth from where he stood at the front of the group of other examinees, looking for some means to get out of the situation. However, before he could do anything more, a sneeze came from the most unlikely of individuals.

Xenovia's cheeks coloured as everyone turned to face her, her expression deceptively neutral in the face of all the wronged looks people were giving her.

At this point though, it didn't matter.

The cracks that were surrounding them instantly became more pronounced and evident.

"Well, shit," Antonio swore as the ground gave in beneath everyone.

The shadows deep beneath the ground were like a blanket all around them. Thick and heavy, blotting out all traces of light as they all slowly staggered to their feet. Moments passed and shortly after regaining their bearings the light from their swords chased away the dark. They were inside a cavern of some sort, the ceiling dozens of meters high, lined with teeth of earth and stone both above and below.

Stalactites and stalagmites?

It appeared as if they were in some sort of cave. Perhaps when the ground caved in from beneath everyone's feet the impact of the fall had caused them to land further into the ground.

 _"_ _Unfortunately, that assumption is wrong,"_ the voice within the necklace spoke.

He remained silent, prompting the voice to continue.

 _"_ _The dimension created by the Dimensional Cross is one that is ever shifting, composed of multiple layers. Who's to say that every examinee ended up within the same dimension?"_

He frowned, thinking about such a possibility. In that case, how would they be able to save everyone?

 _"_ _You shouldn't think too hard about it,"_ the voice within the necklace spoke. _"I have a general idea about the location of most participants, and in fact, most of them were in the same area you started in. The only exception was one."_

Irina Shidou.

He understood now why they were unable to find her after such a long time. Then why did the voice direct him to lead the group to the previous location where they fell?

 _"_ _This is simply because there was a chance to meet up with Irina Shidou. The only thing unexpected was the method to cross over. It was most probable that she, like you all, fell into this separate dimension."_

He nodded his head, feeling relieved. Even though he only knew Irina slightly due to their short interactions, but the time spent together was more than enough time for him to understand what kind of a person she was. Kind, would be the best word to describe her, followed closely with considerate. That kind of person was not one he wished to see get injured.

The only problem was, where was she?

 _"_ _If she's alive, she's nearby,"_ the voice within the necklace spoke. _"Around half-a-mile forward, then a sharp left towards a cleft formed by a small underground stream."_

Inwardly giving his thanks, he asked Xenovia to help reorganize the group with him, and together they soon set off towards where the voice within the necklace directed him. The swords in their hands were made out of light energy, thus they could slightly illuminate the way in front of them.

Water dripped from the stalactites hanging overhead, like the drool of a starving beast with prey already between it jaws.

"I don't like the feeling of this place." One of the examinees said, solemnly taking in the sight of their surroundings. "Something's definitely off."

"And I think I might know what." Another replied, raising his blade upwards with trembling hands as he stared transfixed into the gazes of so many others.

"W-What the hell are those?!" Another examinee called panicking.

Within the shadows and the dim lighting, it was hard to make out anything but the pairs of red eyes hanging from the ceiling. It was then that a deafening screech resounded before the group fell under attack.

One of the examinees who was just standing three meters away from him disappeared, her screams fading in the darkness.

Chaos immediately broke out amongst the examinees as more and more got injured. It only got worse as time went by, and the stench of blood began to permeate within the air.

He grimaced, staying near Xenovia and protecting all those around him. However, he wasn't capable of defending so many people at the same time.

Yet suddenly,

"Over here!" A familiar voice yelled. "Come over here!"

Turning his head, he caught site of Irina shouting at them standing at the front of a large crack in the wall.

Amidst the panic, the majority of the examinees blindly followed Irina's voice arriving in front of her. Irina then directed them into the space within the crack. It was probably where she had been hiding to avoid these things for who knows how long.

Still, there were too many examinees rushing to the same spot at the same time, drawing the attention of their attacker.

Admittedly, he was probably the only one who could make out their forms in the dark, but even then, he was greatly confused. After all, they didn't have a form. They were like floating black clouds with the only discernible feature being their red eyes.

 _"_ _Creatures of the boundary,"_ the voice within the necklace spoke. _"Keepers that watch over the souls of those neither sent to Heaven nor Hell. Their strength is equivalent to a six-winged angel and are normally docile unless provoked,"_ the voice within the necklace didn't speak for a moment, seeming to be in contemplation. _"I had hoped that this wasn't the case, but the Dimensional Cross must have been tampered with."_

In the darkness illuminated by a dim light, he could spot three or four of these creatures moving around within the air.

Still though, now that Irina had been found, all that was left was to leave this place created by the Dimensional Cross. The voice within the necklace was quick to give him information.

 _"_ _From my memory of the design of this place, you all must make your way to the center of the dimension. A control station of sorts could be found there,"_ the voice within the necklace said.

He nodded before saying a quick-thanks.

Regardless, before anything else, he needed to make sure that everyone was safe first. Some of the examinees had already died, and if he didn't act soon, more would be at risk.

If defending was no longer an option since he had too many to defend, then there was only one option left.

He tossed away the light-sword provided to him by the church.

The sword sailing into the air and illuminated one of the creatures just as it drew past.

In that moment, the creature's eyes seemed to widen in disbelief as a pair of blades ripped it in half.

Now wasn't the time to hold anything back anymore.

"Trace, On."

The words resounded within the darkness.

* * *

Xenovia watched Shirou silently with rapt attention. Ever since she had first met him, mother Griselda had told her that she would find out for herself what characteristics drew her to him. Griselda attributed it to the natural quality of a Holy Man: An individual blessed by the heavens.

She however saw differently, seeing through the Holy aura Shirou would occasionally emit unknowingly.

He was kind.

Kinder than anyone that she had ever met in her life. She knew that it wasn't really his fault for seeing her within the lake, but irrationally, she still held it against him and refused to share her food when she noticed that he had none. Who would have thought that Shirou could cook? And even more so, offer up the food he took effort to make to her first before then insisting on a trade when she refused due to her own ego.

More than kind though, he was caring.

The lives of the other examinees who participated in the trials should not have been his to worry about, and yet from the very beginning when the malfunctioning of the white orbs was discovered, he had been one of the first to propose to look for the rest along with her. Even then, when their search was proving futile, his determination never wavered. In fact, because of this, they were able to find more and more of the examinees. It seemed as though wherever Shirou would go, he would know exactly where the location of the other examinees would be.

For these reasons, and a couple mundane other things she couldn't take the time to mention, she saw for herself what qualities drew her to him.

Most of all though, he meant more to her than anyone else in the church. He was her friend. The only one that stood by her side despite her cold demeanor, and admittedly lacking common sense that pushed others away behind an unintentional frosty glare.

So, even in the midst of battle, she watched him carefully. Preparing herself to fight by his side when he chose to act. It was because of this mentality that despite the ensuing chaos, her eyes never left his figure, letting her witness something she and many others would never forget.

"S-Sacred Gear," she spoke in astonishment.

They were the couple hundred or so armaments created by God, and gifted to the human race. Still though, their numbers were limited, and their strength varied. As such it was extremely rare for a human in a population of even a few billion to possess one. Even more so if the Sacred Gear was a Longinus class.

Watching carefully, a pair of swords had just spontaneously appeared within Shirou's hands, and based on their feel, they were at least Legend Grade weapons or higher.

Weapons were classified by the church as Mortal for the regular weapons made of steel, Legend Grade for the weapons of great renown and power, and finally Holy Grade for weapons being at the pinnacle.

She frowned as she pondered to herself.

The only Sacred Gear she knew of capable of producing swords in such a manor was Sword Birth. Be that as it may, it couldn't possibly be that particular gear. It was impossible since Sword Birth was only known to produce demonic swords. In which case, the black and white curved falchions in Shirou's hands respectively, did not give off any indication of demonic aura. Therefore, they could not be of demonic origin.

She didn't know what kind of Sacred Gear Shirou possessed, but she knew for certain that she would ask Griselda when they eventually returned. Right now, she was just glad for this unexpected surprise. Still though, she had her own surprises.

Her eyes tracing the path of the light-sword Shirou had thrown at the start of the fight, they came to rest on another one of those creatures that flew past.

Calculating within her mind, mother Griselda had once admonished her severely for bringing out this weapon and breaking the seal without just cause. However,

She could not fault her for utilizing it in this sort of situation.

Mimicking Shirou's earlier throw, she tossed her light-sword away, uncaring about where it went, or if she'd hit anything or not.

At the same time, with a single flourish of her hand, her white cloak was shed off to reveal a a pair of arm-warmers that reached half-way up her arm, and a form-fitting black-combat apparel that completely resembled a black leotard with short sleeves.

Stretching her hand out, a magic circle appeared a foot away from her palm before a chained sword began to emerge. Her palm then grasped the hilt.

The chains shattered in a shower of sparks.

A warmth spreading through her body.

Sword and wielder stood as one once more.

Emitting a tower of yellow light, it split apart the darkness.

Durandal, the Holy Sword of the legendary Paladin of Charlemagne.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious**

 **Next update: A Tale of Two Swords.**

 **I can not believe I got this done in a day...Now if you'll excuse me, I have work at six in the morning.**

 **-Parcasious**


	6. The Trials: End

Shirou was stunned for a moment as the history of the sword Xenovia pulled out filtered through his mind. Each swing of its blade shooting out towers of divine light and incinerating all adversaries.

It was a weapon that had been covered in bound chains that shattered upon Xenovia grabbing its hilt and flourishing it to the side.

Durandal, the Holy Sword of the legendary Paladin of Charlemagne.

He had once glimpsed Durandal from within Gilgamesh's armoury, but it was far different from the sword Xenovia wielded. It was the product of the difference between two worlds. One was an indestructible Noble Phantasm acting as a vessel of three miracles, and the other was a Holy Sword created from the hands of God capable of unleashing an untold amount of Holy power.

Of course, this had its down sides.

The vast amount of power contained within the Durandal in Xenovia's hands was unstable, and he could easily perceive it through the strained expression on Xenovia's face. This must have been the reason as to why Durandal had been chained and stored within a separate dimension.

From the history, he had glimpsed from the Durandal in Xenovia's hands, its previous wielder Roland had used it to fight an army of a hundred-thousand men. Its immense strength was reason enough to comprehend why Xenovia had not yet mastered the sword.

It was at that moment when Xenovia moved to attack with the sword that he felt it, his body faltering before he fell on his knees. This action was not missed by those fighting on the battlefield and certainly not by Xenovia who abandoned any notion of attack and moved by his side.

"What's wrong?" She asked concerned while warding away the enemies with the intense Holy attribute of her sword.

Instead of replying, the swords he had traced, Kanshou and Bakuya, faded away. All that remained were his hands clutching tightly against his chest and a confused expression over his face.

Others who had gathered their courage soon began to join Xenovia in protecting him as they regarded him as not only a leader, but someone capable of helping them escape their current situation. This assumption only solidified after the majority of them drew the conclusion that he possessed a Sacred Gear.

"What's going on with him? He was fine just a second ago!"

"Does it matter? For now, we just have to make sure he stays alive!"

In the midst of all the shouting, he didn't feel as if his mind was presently there, but rather, the world seemed to rotate around the Durandal in Xenovia's hand. There was a feeling surging within him, demanding a release. To this regard, even the Durandal in Xenovia's hand began to emit a thin sheen of light as Xenovia drew closer to him in her bid to protect him.

It was then that he realized it; what it truly was that was happening.

A sword thrummed from the depths of his inner world, resonating and demanding to be used. Even if it was just a copy, prominent swords like Caliburn had a will of their own, dictating when and who would be able to wield them. This sword was no different.

 _"_ _Miracles call upon miracles."_

 _If you want release, then I will grant you release_ , he thought as he gritted his teeth and a projection came forward.

From the hands clutching at his chest appeared a black hilt adorned with a pure stylistic coating of gold along the rims and crossguard. Even the pommel made of clear jewel was enshrouded in a neat design.

"A-A sword?!" Someone spoke amidst battle.

It wasn't just any sword either. From the moment the blade emerged, fuller, point, and all, it released a radiance comparable to the Durandal in Xenovia's hands, unwilling to appear inferior in any way.

It was a statement.

Durandal, the Peerless Sword and Noble Phantasm of Roland of Charlemagne, had made an appearance.

While the Durandal in Xenovia's hand was unrestrained, its power emitting from it in waves, the feel of the other Durandal was much more calm and serene. It was the difference between an unrestrained beast, and a patient hunter. Furthermore, the three miracles held within the Noble Phantasm seemed to spring to life at that moment as if in joy.

The only reaction to this was a slight tinkle originating from the necklace around his neck.

"T-That sword, what is it?" Xenovia asked, her brows furrowing and not just from the effort of wielding her own sword.

Many others waited for that exact answer, but that answer would truly shock them all.

Miracles were events unexplainable by either science or nature. They were truly profound. Just as the old scriptures spoke of them in the testament.

When God said, 'Let there be light:' then there was light.

Without reason, without understanding cause, it was truly something inexplicable.

 _"_ _Miracles are the work of God, and God is a man of miracles,"_

Durandal raised by itself in his hand, and without warning one of the miracles stored within leapt to the tip of the blade and shone brightly in accordance with the necklace around his neck.

"The sword of miracles, and a symbol of power," the words coming out of his mouth were being echoed by the will within the necklace. "Once I ask thee, and twice you will answer me more," the Durandal in Xenovia's hands shook violently, as if ready to fly out at any moment, but Xenovia's grip held strong. "By this call, return all to 'Tranquility,' Durandal's light."

A shocked expression flashed and remained over Xenovia's face as she heard the name of the sword within his hands.

"B-But that's?"

Impossible. He knew exactly what she thought. Thus, he wouldn't comment on her expression of disbelief and the way she stared back from the Durandal in her hand, and the Durandal in his. It was a perfectly normal reaction as even he in her situation may have done the same. Even if he had presented Saber with another Excalibur, he was sure she would have been taken aback as well.

For a moment, the world was still.

Then the roof was ripped open, revealing an open sky. From this sky, divine hands of cloud and wind pushed back the attackers until none remained.

It was only after sunlight began to pierce through the clouds that everyone began to regain their senses and wipe away their expressions of befuddlement. In fact, what replaced the befuddlement on their faces was a deep sense of awe and gratitude which only solidified further when they realized they had returned to the peaceful zone they had once been in. The place before they had been transported to that cave like world.

From his understanding of what had just happened, he, through the machinations of the necklace had unleashed one of the three miracles stored within the Noble Phantasm Durandal.

Miracles were unexplainable events created by God, and this is what one would call a miracle. A phenomenon able to even rip apart the fabrics of space itself to return all into proper order, back into a state of tranquility.

With no longer a danger in sight, the necklace around his neck fell silent as the Holy Force emitting from Durandal dimmed. However, the blade itself did not yet wish to fade, remaining despite his intention to dismiss it and put aside to avoid anymore future troubles.

For the time being though, at least everyone would be safe

* * *

She didn't know what to feel at this point as nothing seemed to make any sense anymore. The sword in her hand, and the sword in Shirou's, they went by the same name. She could even go a step further and admit that they felt the same too. As the true inheritor of Durandal, she had spent a majority of her time getting accustomed to the distinct Holy energy flowing from her sword, making it unmistakable.

At this point, there was only one thing left for her to do.

Her body ached from the effort of controlling the power within the Durandal in her hands, but at this moment, she couldn't be bothered by it. Instead, she slowly walked towards Shirou, stopping in front of him.

"May I hold it?" She asked. It was the only way she could determine everything with a hundred percent confidence.

Shirou seemed to hesitate for a moment, but relented after seeing the earnesty in her gaze.

Presented with the other Durandal, she gently took it upon its hilt and inspected it before her very eyes.

 _It was the same._

The excess power that had been exuding from her own Durandal seemed to filter into the other seamlessly; proving that there was no difference between the two blades in the first place other than shape and design. What surprised her though was the calm and vibrant energy that the other Durandal Shirou had given her began to exude.

Although it was the same Holy Power that her own sword released, it was the difference between unbridled and controlled. What gave her even more of a pause was that the sword would allow her to wield it, just as Durandal had accepted her as its current owner.

It was then that she swallowed, realizing the implications this matter would bring within the very foundations of the church. And if she was correct in her suspicions about it, it may very well stir up great unrest within even the upper echelons of the church.

It was a sword of _miracles_ ; not just a sword of unimaginable power like the Durandal she had summoned.

She wasn't an idiot, and could in fact remember clearly what it was Shirou had said before bringing everyone to safety.

The first clue was the word 'Miracle' with the next verse of 'Once I ask thee, and twice you will answer me more,' as an indication for further thought.

What mattered though was the single plea to return all back into 'Tranquility,' and the subsequent use of evoking Durandal's name with 'Light.'

Light was a mark of God, and arguably one of his greatest symbols within the Faith and in the Heavens above. In this regard, the Durandal Shirou had given her to inspect only made her suspicions rise.

 _The sword of Miracles, had been able to produce a miracle?_

Was the sole thought taking up residence within her mind, and it wasn't just a small miracle either. With this in mind, the verse of 'Once I ask thee, and twice you will answer me more,' immediately began to make sense in her mind. If once was the miracle, then the 'twice you will answer me more,' verse would indicate?

Her eyes narrowed as her suspicions grew. She would take everything back. This kind of discovery would not only generate great unrest within the church, but may even involve the Heavens as well.

 _A Holy Trinity of Three Miracles_.

Once that thought took root in her mind, it was only then that she was able to sense it within the Holy aura of the Durandal Shirou had given her. The presence of two unexplainable phenomenons that could be nothing other than miracles.

If she could draw such a conclusion, then others could too, but the difference was that she had confirmed it for herself.

Miracles were something only God could achieve. Not even the highest level of angel or seraphim could possibly recreate it. In fact, miracles were tied to God himself, and it was known that only he alone could invoke them.

For Shirou to be able to utilize an actual miracle,

This surpassed the level of a mere Sacred Gear. This was a genuine Holy Sword. An identical Durandal. In which case, she turned towards her own Durandal. Did hers wield within it miracles as well?

She shook her head, that fact wasn't important at the moment. It was the realization that three miracles had been able to exist outside of God's authority with two more still unutilized. If Shirou could utilize them, couldn't anyone capable of wielding this sword do the same?

She reluctantly returned Shirou's version of Durandal back to him, feeling a sense of attachment with it due to its exact similarities with her own sword.

"You must take great care to prevent this sword from falling into the wrong hands," she said gravely.

Even now, she would make sure to disclose this matter only to Griselda. She didn't trust anyone else, and it was highly possible for corrupt figures to exist within the church. Valper Galilei was an example.

She didn't know what the church or the Heavens could do with the two remaining miracles, but it was said in the Great War of the Factions that God's miracles alone were game changing, allowing him to even hold back entire armies by himself as he covered rear guard.

This is exactly what miracles were, unable to be reproduced. Even Metatron, for all his power, was not able to defend his followers against the attacks of the other factions in a retreat as God had.

"You _must_ take great care to prevent this sword from falling into the wrong hands," she repeated again for extra emphasis.

Shirou wasn't like her who was raised within the church. He may not know any of the existing power plays that resided within it with each leader vying for authority.

Shirou nodded his head. "Trust me, I'll keep it safe," he said.

She grunted before crossing her arms. "You better," she spoke.

Knowing Shirou's temperament which she had seen personally, she was sure that if given enough incentive, he may very well utilize another miracle without realizing that he might have been mislead.

"On second thought, you are not to leave my side," she ended up deciding as the safest approach.

Her response made Shirou speechless, and even she felt a tad embarrassed and self conscious when he regarded her with bewildered eyes. However, she convinced herself that she wasn't being unreasonable, but rather it was Shirou with his _personality_ that was unreasonable. Mind set firmly at ease, nothing Shirou said would convince her at this point; her embarrassed expression quickly shifting into one of calm neutrality, and the image of her forcing herself on Shirou cementing in people's minds.

Even Irina couldn't help but comment with a heated face. "You're so bold," was what she said.

"It's refreshing though. This is how a girl should act like, straight forward and to the point," Liliana spoke with a devious smile.

The other two of the Marino siblings only shook their heads in pity towards Shirou before going back to attend to the injured. Their looks were ones shared by some of the other males, but not all. To be tied down to a woman so early and one so alluring too, they couldn't contain their jealousy.

Not realizing anything of what was going on around her, she only kept her gaze locked on Shirou who unlike her, could clearly hear what the others were saying and was quickly going red faced.

Seeing the red in Shirou's face, she concluded that he must have been hungry or something and thus she voiced her opinion of allowing him to make food before any plans of what to do. In other's eyes though, this action made it evidently clear who wore the _pants_ in the relationship, drawing barks of laughter from the spectators.

The laughter drew her attention, but she simply had no idea why the others were laughing in the first place. She genuinely smiled though, realizing that the sudden laughter had considerably lightened the air of gloom that had once surrounded the injured.

However, her smile caused a majority of the laughter to settle down, captivated by the beauty possessed within it. The common misconception though was the reason for her smile. Whether it was because she had successfully pulled the reins in on Shirou, or because she was just genuinely happy, no one knew except for her.

* * *

By the time Shirou returned and made food, she was already by her default place beside Shirou with an empty bowl in her hand waiting for it to be filled.

She had long ago run out of ration bars and any other food she could trade with him, and as such, for the longest time she felt undeniable guilt for her actions knowing that gluttony was also a sin. Yet now, for the first time, she felt justified in her actions as she equated her behaviour to a protection fee of sorts.

Without any questioning whatsoever, Shirou placed the food he had made in her bowl, and then promptly began serving portions to everyone else.

Irina who had never tasted the food Shirou had made before was the one most surprised by the unexpected taste.

However, even if Irina had been nice to her before, it was she who would be first to get a second serving before her. It just simply felt natural.

As soon as the food was served and everyone had eaten, she then turned her attention towards the Durandal in her hand, the one she had been given by the church. Its power was truly unrestrained, but she found out that the closer she was to the other Durandal in Shirou's possession, the easier it was for her to control. The reason for this though was something that took her a short amount of time to conclude.

They were both Durandal.

Thus, they were both capable of wielding the same power.

If one released too much, then the other could help siphon off the excess.

Still though, her Durandal was too hard to control at the current moment, and it was far more convenient to keep it sealed until necessary.

What mattered to her, and everyone present now though, was how to get out?

To obtain that answer, all pairs of eyes, even hers, turned subconsciously to stare at Shirou who was unused to all the attention. From the very beginning, it was him who had persevered the hardest to save as many people as he could. Him who had even managed to do so despite his own limitations; rather he broke through them and revealed who he truly was, a selfless idiot of an optimist who had still managed to achieve his goal.

And that point exactly was praise worthy.

At the center of attention, Shirou was absently fiddling with the Durandal in his hand, a complex expression over his face as he murmured quietly about trying to put away the blade, yet being unable to.

Regardless though, he soon answered everyone's question.

Go North-East.

Shirou had that look on his face again as if he knew exactly what was right and what was wrong. The pleasant aura he exuded also contributed to this image, and it was in fact this aura that had gotten him labeled with the title of Holy Man when he was first by the creek.

Unquestioningly, the group had begun to simply follow Shirou's lead, growing more and more confident in their decision to do so when the group never ran into any units of winged sentinels. This was uncommon as even though Grisleda had explained that only some areas contained hordes of them, it was improbable that they wouldn't at least run into one of those mentioned areas. In fact, a few of the examinees in the group had indeed run into other sentinels in their previous travels alone. However, with Shirou leading, this was not the case.

No danger ever appeared under his sights, or at least he never led them into danger.

As the group continued walking North-East, they ended up falling into a comfortable routine. Every morning the group set off after eating and gathering their things and would walk until noon where they set up camp for the day. From there, they would no longer continue walking since they risked the prospect of traveling in the dark after the sun set. It was much more advisable to instead hunt and forage for enough food to feed everyone and allow for breaks. This way, everyone could remain productive and be ready to fight if such a situation were to arise.

However, although this method of travel was easy on everyone, it took a considerable amount of time. They would walk for the majority of the day before setting camp and gathering food. From there, the group would just remain idle in that one location. It was only a spontaneous act of her own doing that changed the previous routine.

As the group was resting for the day, she had grown bored and first challenged Irina to a spar, and then Shirou. From there, she would ask for a spar from the other examinees after every stop. In this way, instead of stagnating in the dimension created in the Dimensional Cross, the examinees could improve. Goading Shirou into the idea, she and Shirou one way or another began to train with the other examinees during resting times as they waited for night fall.

In this way, five weeks eventually passed.

Currently she was sitting by one of many fires that the group had set up as night fall descended. As a habit she had developed, she edged herself closer to the fire to get a good stare at Shirou who was sitting on the other side.

He hadn't changed very much in the past month aside from his hair growing out a bit, but she was the same as well, her hair reaching to her shoulder blades. The only other difference from now and a month before was the maturity she could now see in him. Perhaps it was due to being relied on by so many other in the past few weeks? Or maybe it was because he was simply becoming more and more sure of himself? Either way,

He truly felt like a dependable man.

She couldn't help but keep her eyes on him, only snapping out of her stupor when Shirou shifted his gaze away from hers.

Realizing that she had been staring at him for too long, she schooled her features and asked. "How much longer will we be going North-East for?"

"It shouldn't be long now, possibly a day or two more of travel, and four at the most," Shirou explained before skewering a piece of meat and roasting it by the fire.

She hummed in thought from Shirou's response, wisps of flame from the fire reflecting off her eyes and giving her unique sort of look. It was pretty in fact, to the point of mesmerizing the Marino siblings who had erected their own fire nearby and were quietly eavesdropping.

"Is something wrong?" She ended up asking Shirou.

Shirou's face blanked before he shook his head. "No no, it's nothing," he quickly denied.

She gave him a skeptical look before her hands reached for the skewer and secured it.

Shirou only faintly smiled as he ended up just roasting another skewere from the animal he had caught previously.

It would only be a few more day now until they would reach their destination.

As such, they had arrived at an area with a wide plain and nothing else in sight except for an army of hovering winged sentinels that had yet to notice them.

Shirou motioned for everyone to quite down before he spoke. "I'm going to make a move," he said. "As soon as I'm done, we'll have our way out, but we'll be sure to attract attention," he explained.

She stared at Shirou, and acknowledged his words. Yet what move exactly was he going to be making?

"Once I had asked of thee, and twice you will answer me more," The Durandal in Shirou's hands thrummed to life, white rings forming and circling around it as Holy Force began to build. "Through this second call, grant me 'Power,' Durandal's light!"

It was like a Holy beam of utter annihilation focused only on a sole point within the world. This point could not withstand the strength backing the beam, and instantly shattered a fragment of the world, creating a hole in the dimension.

"Why didn't you just do that before?" She asked along with some of the other examinees.

In fact, even Shirou had the same questioning expression as the rest. It soon disappeared though before he spoke again.

"Because I could not guarantee which dimension we'd return to," he said, shutting up any other questions.

"So, we just jump in, then we're out?" Andrea asked.

Shirou nodded. "We don't have much time though, look."

Just as Shirou had said, the hole Durandal had torn in the dimension was slowly closing.

"O Shit!" Andrea swore as he pulled on his siblings in the direction of the hole.

Many other examinees swiftly followed in a panic.

Shirou though was different. Instead, he focused on repelling the winged sentinels from getting too close to the group. In this regard, he was doing exceptionally well, remnants of the miracle of 'Power' still remaining on Durandal and allowing him to cleave through the sentinels as if they were paper.

Still though, Shirou wasn't the only one to have decided to defend the other examinees. She and Irina had as well.

Irina was aiming for the lower winged sentinels as she found it difficult to attempt anything higher.

She though, had long ago released her version of Durandal, towers of light obliterating low and mid rank winged sentinels alike. However, like she expected, Durandal was still too difficult to control, only able to blast out concentrated bursts of Holy Energy and losing mobility.

Seeing this, she realized that Shirou had approached her.

"It will help you more than me," he said as he gave her his version of Durandal.

Instantly, she felt the difference. The excess energy of her Durandal was being absorbed by the other, allowing her the necessary control without losing any power. It was as if she was meant for these swords. In accordance with her thoughts, both swords shook slightly in her hands. After all, she was the next actual wielder of Durandal, an heir. Another Durandal or not, if one Durandal had accepted her, then another would too.

She felt nigh invincible as she, for the first time, felt as if she had full control of her sword. Winged sentinel after winged sentinel was mowed down until none remained.

"Then I'll go first before either of you," Irina said as the last of the examinees in their group vanished through the hole. "Besides, I wouldn't be of much help if I stayed behind now anyway."

With her piece said, Irina entered the hole within the dimension, leaving only Shirou and her.

"You can go first. I should be good here," she boasted.

Rather than answering, Shirou finished off a few more of the winged sentinels with the black and white falchions he now had in hand. He then frowned as his eyes scanned the now decimated surroundings.

"Something's wrong," Shirou spoke suddenly. "You should go first."

She raised a brow. "I should be fine," she spoke confidently. "But I'll go since you insist."

Setting her gaze on the hole within the dimension, she quickly made her way there, but hesitated just before entering. An eight-winged sentinel had just appeared before her, an explosive lance in hand. It wouldn't be much trouble to maneuver around it, but based on her current strength, this could be an ideal test.

Coming to a decision, she decided to take down one last enemy.

The Durandals in her hands shimmered as they released their Holy Energy, completely destroying the eight-winged sentinel with a substantial amount of resistance.

She smiled then, thinking of the results. If she could still manage to defeat an eight-winged sentinel, then perhaps her strength capped at a ten-winged sentinel?

"Xenovia!"

The moment her name was called, was the moment she realized the unimaginable presence of the being that had appeared beside her.

T-Twelve wings.

It was completely useless to move as her reaction time was too slow.

In that moment as death approached, that feeling instantly vanished to be replaced by utter despair. She had been pushed towards the direction of the hole in the dimension that would lead straight out of the Dimensional Cross, but someone had taken her place in front of the incoming lance's point.

And all of this happened right before her eyes.

Memories of the numerous day they had spent together within the Dimensional Cross flickered across her mind, even the one's from when she had first challenged him to a spar.

She didn't even need to ask why he had done it, she knew him well enough for that.

Even with the other Durandal in her hand making it easier to wield her own, it all didn't matter to her at this point when anything she could do was useless.

She wanted to yell at him, call him an idiot for his actions, but most of all, she wanted him to stop making that face as if this would be the last time they would see each other. It was simply one that was resigned.

At that moment, even the calm façade she'd always maintained began to crumble away and reveal the panic-stricken face of the woman beneath. It was her fault, everything was her fault. If she hadn't been so careless, if she hadn't been so _stupid_! Then wouldn't this situation never have had happened? She regretted it, more than she ever regretted anything. Loosing herself in that feeling of being invincible with the power she had in her hands.

It had cost her, hurting her in more ways than one. What was Shirou to her? Was he just a friend, or was he something more? Either way, she couldn't bear the thought of losing him. Even more so when she knew that it was the price of her own actions.

She continued to berate herself even as the light energy within the impact lance began to accumulate at the tip of the twelve-winged sentinel's attack. Any moment now and it would explode with an unrestrained amount of power generated by a being of twelve wings.

She should have listened to Griselda's words. She wasn't yet ready to wield Durandal's power. Too immature.

Her thoughts reaching this point, nothing really mattered to her anymore.

As her body was sucked in towards the hole in the dimension and white completely surrounded her vision, she became listless as her ears registered the burst of a mighty explosion in the next moment.

More than ever in her life, she prayed for a miracle.

The Durandal Shirou had given her thrummed in her hand, yet quickly dimmed.

Because only God could create miracles.

* * *

He didn't know if he could make it through this, but he could feel his chest caving in, if not distorting completely from the explosion. That was as expected though from the power of a twelve-winged sentinel.

He had had no time to erect a shield of any kind for himself in the time frame he had to push Xenovia out of the way. Thus, all he had been able to do was reinforce his body and hope for the best. Still, the added durability was enough for him to at least not explode into bits on the spot, but instead send him hurtling through the air at break-neck speed.

He didn't know when, or exactly how far away he had landed, yet he ended up in a place that resembled a grand monolith with far reaching spires on all sides. Small grasses and shrubs were seen just off the edge of his vision, but he couldn't move to look around more due to the severity of his injuries casuing him to black out.

Like always though, when he had come to, the wounds he had sustained had already greatly healed. He didn't know why, but this was because of the effect of a certain sheath stored within his body.

As he pulled himself to his feet, it was then that the voice in the necklace spoke.

 _"_ _Somehow you have ended up within the control center of this dimension,"_ the voice explained. _"Although I suppose that's a good thing as you may be able to simply fix the problem affecting the relic rather than make your way back to the hole in the dimension."_

He frowned after listening to the words the voice in the necklace spoke. "Then how do I fix it?"

 _"_ _That's not something you should think about at the moment, but rather you should know that this place is the most heavily guarded location in this relic,"_ the voice said. _"Although you might be happy to know that I will be of great use now for something other than for directions like the previous weeks."_

He raised a brow as the voice directed him to step towards one of the spires surrounding the monolith. Almost immediately, the spire shrunk in size as the necklace siphoned off the Holy Energy fueling it. After words, he was then instructed to move towards the rest of the spires, similar events happening to each spire he approached.

It was only when the last spire was gone, did a divine resplendent light emit from the necklace.

 _"_ _This should be good enough,"_ the voice spoke. _"Although even less than a fraction of my strength was recovered, it should be enough."_

"What do you mean?" He asked.

 _"_ _You will understand. Just know that you will no longer need to fear any winged-sentinel from now on,"_ the voice said mysteriously. _"Sentinels and Winged Sentinels in the first place were designed to only take instruction from a single important being up in Heaven."_

He nodded to the voice's words, but he was still a tad confused.

 _"_ _You will understand eventually. For now, you may make your way towards the monolith,"_ the voice said.

Although he still had questions, he would much rather escape from the Dimensional Cross first. Thus, he moved towards the monolith, pausing as he saw just how many winged sentinels were blocking his path. What was even more frightening was the presence of seven twelve-winged sentinels at the foremost of the group.

 _"_ _Move aside,"_ the voice within the necklace transmitted its voice out as it expelled a substantial amount of Holy Aura.

To his credit, he did not react outwardly when the winged sentinels did as the voice instructed.

 _"_ _Curious? Try it yourself. I'll help you,"_ the voice in the necklace spoke.

From there, the voice prompted him to try calling one of the winged sentinels over while still releasing waves of Holy Aura. After doing as the voice suggested, one of the winged sentinels indeed moved towards him, and it was twelve winged as well.

Kneeling, the twelve-winged sentinel awaited instruction.

"How is this possible?" He couldn't help but ask, remembering the strength of just one of these twelve-winged sentinels. Its power alone may have required the use of one of the more taxing Noble Phantasms in his possession.

 _"_ _Perhaps because we're near the control area,"_ the voice supplied, but it sounded more or less like the voice was attempting to avoid the issue.

Regardless though, he wouldn't question it for the time being as the situation had indeed become favourable. Awkwardly dismissing the twelve-winged sentinel as he wasn't sure if it understood him or not, he walked directly beside the monolith.

The voice in the necklace then instructed him to place his hand against the cold stone, and as soon as he did so, an entrance opened up at the monolith's side.

Within the monolith appeared what looked like an ordinary control room. He could determine this based on experience when he had worked on a similar project within a room in Homurahara Academy in Fuyuki. By project, he meant volunteered to repair a few of the older models of computers.

Reminded of such things, he couldn't help but smile wryly as he realized that the people of Heaven themselves modeled their own technology on what humans had created. That, or it could have been the other way around, but he didn't suppose it mattered.

Walking in, wires were wound across various devices, connecting them to perform several functions. Although he said wires, they were more like ethereal thread that allowed for objects to easily move through them or past them.

Based on the dust on the majority of the screens around him, evidently, he could see just how old the place was. Even some of the screens that were showing various places across the dimension were cracked and tinted with dust, or at least the few that were working.

Of the screens, he could see within the room inside the monolith, only a few appeared to be working order.

Pausing his momentary observations, he quickly used Structural Analysis to discover exactly what it was that had caused the malfunction in the Dimensional Cross.

As Xenovia had explained to him during the resting intervals of their travels, the Dimensional Cross was supposedly a relic used for the training of church exorcists. In this way, potential exorcists could face stronger opponents for training without the threat of death looming over their heads.

It was not supposed to be a place where trainees were doomed for certain death.

Carefully analysing everything that filtered into his sight, he soon came to a stop over a single point in the control room.

Observing this point, he placed a hand down over the contraption and began to fiddle with something loose he felt at the edge of his finger tips. After a few more attempts, he eventually managed to pull out a small paneled device.

What stood out though, was a black feather peaking out from the only damaged portion of the panel.

He raised a brow. This indeed was the main cause of the problem.

 _"_ _Fallen Angels,"_ the voice in the necklace spoke in a sigh. _"Angels who have lost themselves in temptation and have fallen from grace. Their pinioned wings of white, turned pitch black as a sign of their fall."_

The voice in the necklace then went on to explain that the Fallen Angels were the third Faction in the Great War. The others being the Angels and the Devils. Although the Fallen Angels were once Angels themselves, their leaders were insistent on fighting to better their lives.

Fallen Angels were the faction at risk the most by both sides. Although some on the side of the Angels were hesitant to formally attack them due to former ties, they didn't welcome them back with open arms either. As for what the Devils thought of them, they saw them as another enemy capable of using light based attacks which was a great danger to Devil kind.

Unwilling to remain in such a position, the Lord Governor of Fallen Angels, Azazel, and his subordinates, lead them in battle to face the other factions.

As the Dimensional Cross was a relic of the Great War of the Factions, there was no doubt that one of the Fallen must have been able to sabotage the relic. Worse, as the particular Fallen must have been part of the team that had been privy to the inner workings of the Dimensional Cross.

With the black feather removed, he watched silently as the damage on the panal appeared to repair itself naturally. Eyes scanning over it for anymore abnormalities, he sighed in relief when he realized that there was none.

Swiftly rummaging through his belongings, he eventually pulled out the orb Griselda had instructed everyone to take.

Its function was simple: it would return the examinee back into the present world, and that was exactly what it was that he wanted to do.

Crushing the white orb in hand, he was immediately sent out as the necklace gave off a firm light which resonated with the Heaven-made cores of seven others.

He had left the Dimension of the Dimensional Cross a moment ago, but unknowingly, he did not leave by himself.

* * *

A blessed child was truly all Griselda could say. Shirou had surpassed the title of a Holy Man as most priests could be considered as such. Instead, as a blessed child, he was a being akin to a saint in the making. From the description, she and the rest of the clergy had obtained from the examinees, Shirou had not only revealed an astonishing amount of Holy Aura, but he had defended the examinees as they crossed back into reality. No one knew though aside from Xenovia, and by extension herself, about why Shirou had yet to come out.

Staring at Xenovia, Griselda couldn't help but clench her fists. From the moment she had returned, she had isolated herself to stand over at a corner of the room, holding two swords with one in each hand. The first of the two swords were easy for her, and many of the clergy to recognize. It was Durandal, the sword gifted to Xenovia at a young age due to her abundant amount of inner light, and as expected, the sword had chosen her as its next wielder.

What threw many in the clergy for a loop though, was the sword in her other hand releasing an identical Holy Aura as Durandal.

Xenovia had already emotionlessly disclosed to Griselda of the sword's identity and power, even telling her of the miracles stored within and shocking her with the information. It was another Durandal with one of three miracles still stored within.

She knew that she could not keep hidden the fact that other examinees might have heard the sword's name, but the point was, they couldn't confirm it as the sword was currently in Xenovia's hands. To this regard, Xenovia refused to let go of it even after some of the more respected clergy went up to her and asked to inspect the blade.

Griselda could understand her daughter's actions at least.

Not only did the other Durandal help contain the power of the original, but it could potentially be a part of the last memory she would ever have of Shirou. There was no way she would be willing to lend it to another, even if it was only for an inspection.

Although Griselda didn't show it, the amount of gratitude she currently had towards Shirou was unmistakably high. He had saved her daughter, perhaps even at the cost of his own life.

"I said, no!" Xenovia glared at one of the more persistent Priests who had insisted on seeing the sword. Perhaps because of her own agitation, a large amount of Holy Energy began to exude from both Durandals she had in hand, effectively dissuading anyone from coming close lest they set her off.

She had then pulled up the hood of her white cloak over her head and a substantial portion of her upper face, covering them from view. From then on, no one approached her as she placed both swords on either side of her and sat down with her knees hugged to her chest.

No one knew how much time passed since then, but no one had left the room. This was because, even if there was a slim chance of Shirou returning, many of the examinees were holding onto it since Shiro was their benefactor. It would be abnormal not to have developed a sort of comradery after being together for a span of nearly four months in the Dimensional Cross. And this sense of comradery was also why people were quite mournful of the people who passed away.

It was only when the bells of the church rung to signal mid-night did any changes occur.

The air seemed to distort around the Dimensional Cross before it spat out a single individual accompanied by seven others.

As soon as Shirou appeared, he realized that he had not come alone, but rather seven of the twelve-winged sentinels had come with him, remaining motionless like statues behind him and rendering him speechless. From what the necklace had said, they would only follow the words of an important individual up in Heaven, yet now they had come here? From what he was told, he had only got them to follow his instruction because he was in the control area of the Dimensional Cross. At least, that was what the necklace had explained.

Regardless, his arrival signaled the start of a commotion from the examinees, and even the clergy whose attention remained solely on the seven twelve-winged sentinels. Within the clergy, the head priest was the one most excited as now he had something to replace the relics that had been broken.

Within the commotion, a lone figure stood up from the far corner, a white hood over her head. From the figure and blue hair with green highlight alone, it was impossible to not realise who it was.

Although others could not see the expression hidden beneath the hood of her cloak, Shirou could. And based on her expression, things did not bode well for him.

Xenovia looked livid, of that he had no doubts. She pushed past the crowds, shoving them aside without a care until she stood standing in front of him.

Shirou compared the expression she had now to the one she had had previously at the lake, and quickly realized that she was _far_ angrier to the point of her shoulders trembling.

Shirou braced himself, closing his eyes as Xenovia lunged forward,

only to feel the wind practically squeezed out of him as she crushed him into a hug. Awkwardly, he returned it under the gazes of the suddenly silent crowd who for a select few were still in a trance due to the appearance of the winged sentinels.

Griselda though was not one of those individuals, and instead had a contemplative gleam flash across her eyes. Shirou was a child that the church would not see often let alone produce. His talents were exceptional, and his abilities, even more so.

The power to create true Holy Swords from nothing. It was on a level far superior to her initial guess of the Sacred Gear Blade Blacksmith.

She then recalled the information Xenovia had provided her, particularly the information of the _other_ Durandal. Through her eyes, Shirou had become quite suitable.

Perhaps she should play match maker? But this was actually quite troubling as she had no experience in the particular field of romance as she had not had one herself. She pursed her lips and thought quietly about the best way to proceed. If Shirou was a blessed child, then the child of a blessed child would surely be another blessed child?

For some reason Griselda had become greatly motivated to this cause, and this stemmed not only from the reaction Xenovia had had before Shirou's return, but from her own maternal sentiments. She had adopted Xenovia since she was just a baby, and as one could tell, was deeply attached to her and wished a good future for her. Yet she still had her obligations to the church. And what better way to fill both obligations than to set Xenovia up with a blessed child? Now just how to go about it.

Xenovia could feel the stares on her, but for the moment, she just didn't care. Let them stare, she had nothing to be ashamed of. She had prayed for a miracle, and God had granted her a miracle. She was allowed to act this selfishly for the time being.

Shirou was her first friend, and he had willingly risked his life for her.

She wasn't angry at him, but at herself who had been the cause of the event.

Her face pressed into his chest, drawing comfort from the fact that he was still alive and not gone.

It was at this point that Griselda walked forward, her gaze unnaturally calm.

She opened her mouth and whispered into Shirou's ear. "Mr. Emiya," she spoke robotically as if she had just rehearsed the words.

"When can I expect a baby?"

* * *

Thanks for Reading

P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious

Next update: The Magus Among Ninjas


	7. Kuoh Academy, Part 1

The way his ears had turned as red as his hair was something she couldn't help but find adorable while she looked up at his face from her position pressed to his chest. In fact, not only did Shirou's face flush upon hearing Mother Griselda's question, but his body had also tensed too. In which case, the arms that he had had tentatively wrapped around her before seemed to press her even closer to him.

Not that she was complaining.

The fragrance of morning oak still lingered on his clothes, but that was reasonable as he had not had the time to change attire since arriving. Yet, somehow, the sent was enough to reassure her that he was really here, and not just some fabrication formed from the Holy energy of both Durandals.

Yes, indeed.

In the time that Shirou had yet to appear, she had been comforted by the images of him returning within her mind in a sense. As she was the inheritor of Durandal, it was the sword that had been the one to recognize her as its wielder. Thus, it could sense her mental state. In which case, the Holy Energy emitted from both Durandals had been used as a conduit to try and alleviate her pains.

Holy Energy, was the power of the Heavens, and thus naturally exhibited a calming aura which was directly opposite to the destructive tendencies of Devil energy. Thus, all that both the Durandals had done was concentrate said Holy Energy entirely around her. However, no matter how relieving the energy was and the images it produced, they would never last; which was what happened moments before Shirou had returned. This had caused her to disregard etiquette of any kind drilled into her by Mother Griselda, and reach the present situation because of her own anxiety.

Still, it was a good thing that her hood was up, as she didn't want to be in a similar position as Shirou who had his features exposed. Although she knew she was thick-skinned, even she had a breaking point. It would be a lie to say that she was unaffected by what Mother Griselda had said. As a matter of fact, it greatly resonated with her, but she was always a straight forward person.

It was how she was raised.

She pulled her hood down further over her face as she contemplated, hiding the growing redness of her cheeks as she blew out a breath. A baby? Picturing a pint-sized brat calling her mommy sent a warm feeling across her chest that made her body tingle. Even more so when she realized the potential of child whose blood was related to that of a Holy man. Although she didn't have the exact mindset as her mother Griselda, she did inherit a significant portion of her world views. Thus, it was impossible that her mind wouldn't drift to the potential of her own child. Yet, staring up at Shirou once more, it made her thoughts simply vanish.

If she could describe what she was feeling right now, she pressed herself even closer to him before closing her eyes and burrowing her head into the crux of his shoulder, it was simply _content_.

But the moment had to be ruined by the interjection of the Head Priest coughing into his hand.

She couldn't help but release a genuine glare, and it wasn't an expression that could be misinterpreted.

Fact is, even Griselda could not hold back a glower.

As to why Griselda would glower at the Head Priest who was just trying to return the situation to normal, only Griselda would know.

Suddenly feeling pressured, the Head Priest quickly began talking in succession, attempting to defend himself against the stares that _apparently_ weren't just coming from Griselda and herself. The whole crowd of examinees and even the younger priests and nuns were giving him looks of disbelief and outrage as if he had been the one in the wrong. As a senior of near a hundred years in age, he could not understand what it was that had caused such a detrimental effect, and could only chalk it up to the younger generations foolishness.

In this regard, the Head Priest could only turn and speak to the only person who had become just as flustered as himself.

"What is going on?" The Head Priest couldn't help but ask indecisively.

Shirou shook his head.

As the room fell into a tense silence of wordless interaction, it was the Twelve Winged-Sentinels that broke it.

Floating half of a foot off the ground, they moved in a hovering motion to stand beside the church's altar where they took a knee towards the cross and remained frozen.

Still, it was because of the Winged-Sentinel's movement that finally allowed the Head Priest the momentum necessary to move out of the unexplainable atmosphere and into a more curious one.

Because of this atmosphere, she was reluctantly inclined to separate herself from her hold, standing to the side of Shirou as both the Head Priest and Griselda stood in front of him.

"What exactly happened in there?" The Head Priest asked. It wasn't hard to hear the excitement in the priest's voice as before it was actually quite gloomy after the breaking of the artifacts. The contrast between then and now was too large for others not to notice. Even Griselda couldn't help but release a wry smile.

Shirou began to recount what happened under the attention of everyone present. He first started with what everyone had already explained, the malfunction of the Dimensional Cross and the subsequent actions of finding everyone. While listening to Shirou's accounts, more and more of the clergy began to stare at the other Durandal in a new light. Although Shirou had not said anything about miracles being stored within the blade, he did disclose the pivotal role the blade had accomplished.

This, along with the natural suspicion of what the clergy had heard from the examinees, proved a single fact.

There truly was a _second_ Durandal.

Not only was this piece of inferred information shocking, but the sword's origin was utterly ground breaking.

As Shirou was elaborating further, he did not say how the second Durandal came into creation, and this inadvertently sent a silent message to those who had seen him create the sword from nothing to keep quiet. In fact, even those who had once told their respective clergy elders about Shirou producing the blade were now claiming denial, greatly frustrating their elders who wished to verify. Even if the examinees were inclined to speak the truth, they wouldn't dare to after what Shirou had done for them. In fact, if they had done so, she probably would have had been the first to 'educate' them on how to properly express their gratitude.

Still, seeing all the examinees that she had travelled with for several months unwilling to sell out a comrade, she couldn't help but feel a strong sense of unity. A bond between brothers and sisters forged through the temperament and threat of death. Such ties were the hardest to destroy.

However, even if the examinees were quick to deny, it couldn't be helped that some of the clergy still had their doubts. It was at this point that Shirou finally got to the part where he was explaining what happened as everyone was evacuating from the Dimensional Cross one by one. He spoke of how he, Xenovia, and Irina were the last to leave as they defended everyone else, and what happened after Irina left.

To Irina and the other examines who had left before herself and Shirou, they did not know what had happened to cause Shirou's delay in returning. All that they knew was that they had seen her return quietly by herself, a despondent expression on her face.

"I-It was my fault," she admitted just as Shirou was about to speak about what had transpired before she left the Dimensional Cross. "I, I was too over confident of my own abilities, and," she paused, recalling her own foolishness before she pursed her lips and bowed her head. "It nearly cost him his life."

Her answer was met by the silence of the crowd, yet before the silence could continue, Shirou had pulled down her hood and spoke while shaking his head.

"You have no reason to hide, nor feel as if what happened to me was entirely your fault," he spoke placing his hands on her shoulders.

She did not know why he had pulled down her hood, but his intentions were quite clear in that he only wanted to reassure her. Frankly, it worked as she could tell upon seeing it in his eyes that Shirou never blamed her. Her features softened at that moment, her complexion seeming to shine.

However, it was then that she truly realized that her hood was down and that Griselda was staring intently at her face. Mortified, she steeled her expression lest she make a scene of quickly pulling her hood back on. However, no matter how hard she tried, or how blank her expression became, she couldn't will away the soft pink undertone near the top of her cheeks.

This reaction however, only caused Griselda to nod in satisfaction.

Finishing what he had to say to her, Shirou then got to the crux of the matter, and took out a black feather.

Griselda's calm look shifted into one that became quite attentive as soon as the feather came into her gaze. She and the other clergy were no different as they knew what a black feather symbolised especially when it came from within a Heaven made object.

"Fallen Angel," the Head Priest couldn't help but mutter. "That, that could explain everything if the functions of the Dimensional Cross were tampered by their kind."

An array of expressions seemed to filter across the gathered crowd.

"Where did you find this feather?" Griselda asked after a moment of waiting for the crowd to calm down. "For the Fallen to have tampered with the Dimensional Cross, it has to have had been from the very center of the relic, its control station. Such a place should've been heavily guarded regardless of tampering."

"Indeed," Shirou acknowledged. "After being struck by the Twelve-winged Sentinel's explosive lance, I was lucky enough to survive the attack and ended up near the central area."

"Lucky?" One of the clergy spoke in disbelief. "You endured the attack of a Twelve-winged Sentinel and only call such a feat luck? Do you not understand their power's equivalent?"

Shirou shut his mouth at that moment, as if thinking about something.

Instantly, she began to harbour dislike towards the clergy member that spoke. Why question Shirou's means of survival? No matter how reasonable the clergy members question was, to her and a few others of the examinees, it sounded as if the clergy had already written Shirou off as good as dead.

Indeed, both Griselda and the Head Priest also had displeased looks, but even so they were curious as the clergy member did bring up a valid point.

Shirou seemed to hesitate over something before he glanced down at himself before coming to a conclusion. "May I borrow one of those wooden swords?" He asked, pointing to the far side of the room where the church kept its training equipment.

Surprised with the sudden change in topic, one of the clergy still ended up bringing a wooden sword over.

Taking the sword into his hand, Shirou closed his eyes as the room was suddenly bathed in an instance of some sort of energy, mana to be precise. Moments afterwards, Shirou then gave the sword back to the clergy member who had given it to him. "What do you think?" He ended up asking.

Stunned, the clergy member was about to say something but froze as soon as he and everyone else saw the wooden sword cut through its previous storage container.

"W-What is this?" The clergy member couldn't help but mutter as he once again picked up the wooden sword.

Giving it a few swings, it was evident for others to see that not only had the sword become sharper, it had also become more durable in that not even a light sword could cut into it.

As everyone was contemplating this phenomenon, Shirou opened his mouth to speak.

"My father was a magician before he passed away at an early age," he said.

* * *

His words were met by several surprised faces. In fact, it was something the voice inside the necklace had predicted when he had discussed a believable excuse as to how he was able to survive the attack of a Twelve-Winged Sentinel. Matters became even more believable as he also spoke the truth.

Whether to reveal the capabilities of the voice inside the necklace, or to reveal a portion of his own magecraft, he had already discussed the outcomes of both with the voice in the necklace. Elaborating on the necklace's capabilities was not something in his best interest as it would draw too much attention, and the voice in the necklace itself said it would do no good. Because it would simply be too shocking for others to realize that the voice within the necklace was able to control the Twelve-Winged Sentinels. Even more so when the full extent of the necklace's capabilities was still unknown even to himself. Thus, when the necklace had described the counter part of a Magus in the present world, Magicians, the explanation had become the most suitable for his situation.

By admitting that he was once trained by a magician, he was admitting to knowing a bit of magic, but also admitting to not being taught fully. Therefore, others could understand that he could use magic, but was still generally unfamiliar with the workings of the magical society of the current world.

"One of the magics I know is called Reinforcement, and lets me like the name implies, reinforce objects and even myself," he explained. "When I was struck by the Twelve-Winged Sentinel's attack, I immediately reinforced my body enough to endure a blow that would have had been fatal."

His explanation got a round of nods as many turned to the reinforced wooden sword still in the clergy member's hand. Even under the attack of a light sword, the wood that made up the wooden sword did not even splinter nor crack.

From there, he then went on to explain how he had obtained the feather, omitting how he had walked past a literal encirclement of Winged-Sentinels and straight into the control room. Instead, he just said that the initial momentum of the explosion caused by the Winged Sentinel's lance launched him directly into the control room where he found the feather and made his way back to the present.

Although it sounded unbelievable, it was still enough of an explanation. With that said, he was then left standing under the scrutiny of the Clergy before Griselda gave a nod and immediately dismissed everyone in the room.

The only individuals that remained were himself, Griselda, the Head Priest, Xenovia, and Irina who was prompted to stay.

The Head Priest gave him a questioning look as it appeared the Head Priest still had some doubts, yet he didn't dare vice them, and instead turned excitedly to examine the Winged Sentinels once again.

Griselda's gaze at that moment made Xenovia, Irina, and even himself stand in line as she scrutinized them while pacing.

She then stopped directly in front of him.

"Although I wish to ask the full extent of your magic and which association your father may have belonged to, I can tell that you yourself wish to keep your own secrets, and that you may not even know the answer. Thus, at this moment, there is only one thing I have to say to you," Griselda spoke humbly.

Her next actions even caused Xenovia's eyes to widen. The Head Priest simply acted like he wasn't there in respect for Griselda who had bowed her head down completely.

"Thank you, for saving my daughter," Griselda spoke with gratitude. "She may not be the brightest, nor the most skilled with her blade, but I love her all the same."

In the face of Griselda's words, Xenovia could not maintain her composure and turned the other way when Irina's eyes glanced in her direction.

He could not understand her embarrassment though since he never recalled what it was like to have a mother worry over him in front of others. The closest he could relate to was when Taiga would come for the school hosted Parent-Teacher days in Kiritsugu's stead and would embarrass him in one way or another.

Still, it would never be quite the same.

"There's nothing to thank me for," he spoke earnestly as it was his true opinion. "Even if the situation were to occur again, I would still do the same," he admitted.

Griselda then lifted her head and stared at him oddly.

His answer though prompted Irina to speak. "Then," she began doubtfully. "Don't you cherish your own life?"

The question was asked with a bit of uncertainty, but it didn't take away from the effect it had on others. Everyone waited for his answer. Even the Head Priest who was examining the Winged-Sentinels near the altar perked his ears up to listen.

"Even with my life," he began. "If I could save another, then that in itself is a good enough cause," he ended truthfully.

His answer stunned those present aside from Xenovia who had long since figured out his own selflessness. It was probably why she didn't question him at the time he had pushed her out of the attack range of the Twelve-Winged Sentinel. Still though, not everyone was Xenovia.

An contemplative look appeared over both Griselda's and the Head Priests faces. They were completely stunned to the degree of selflessness he had admitted to. In fact, if not for the importance of completing the Holy Sword Trial, they might have had opened a bible to verify something that flittered across their minds.

Back to the point of the matter though, they had to finish the trials. Putting the matter of the second Durandal, and even the Twelve-Winged Sentinels aside, Griselda put on an imposing air.

"From your previous explanation, it can be inferred that you've fixed the problem with the Dimensional Cross?" Griselda began.

"It has been fixed," he verified.

Griselda nodded her head as the Head Priest approached her side.

"Because of that act, regardless of how many points you were able to earn in the Dimensional Cross, your actions proved your own contributions, and as such you are worthy of wielding a fragment of Holy Sword Excalibur."

With the end of the Head Priest's words, a magic array hovered above the palm of his hand. From there, another larger magic array opened from atop the alter the Winged Sentinels were bowing towards.

The Head Priest then raised another hand and looked expectedly at Irina.

"Irina Shidou, despite being sent towards another dimension far more dangerous than the initial grounds, not only were you able to stay alive, but you gave up your safety to aid in the survival of your fellow brothers and sisters. Although you are weak now, you will grow into a fine wielder of the second fragment of Holy Sword Excalibur," the Head Priest concluded.

With the Head Preist's words said, Xenovia had a look of realisation on her face. She did not qualify to attain one of the two fragments. It was a heavy blow, but Griselda knew her daughter and hastily began to explain.

"Xenovia," Griselda began. "You of course are qualified to wield one of the fragments, but this situation is one where you are overly qualified," she explained. "Besides, the reason I had you participate in the trial was because of the sheer difficulty of learning to control the power of your Durandal, but now the situation has changed."

Griselda's and Xenovia's eyes moved towards the other Durandal, a silent exchange occurring between the two of them. Xenovia's eyes lit up in understanding.

He didn't understand the significance of the exchange, but Griselda did.

With the other Durandal he had traced, Xenovia's control over her own Durandal had improved to the point that she no longer needed to seal her own sword.

In this way, she no longer required Excalibur Destruction, the fragment whose properties were similar to Durandal in releasing a massive influx of Holy Energy. Excalibur Destruction was supposed to be used as a training tool to condition her to better wield Durandal. This purpose could still be implemented, but it was not necessary nor efficient anymore.

Instead, with the Second Durandal on hand, her training and progress would greatly increase.

Naturally, he was inclined to allow her to strengthen herself. Not just because he understood the decision of the Durandal he traced, but because Xenovia was someone he wished to see grow. It was a feeling he couldn't completely understand, but even still he was adamant about his own decisions.

Thus, he would leave the other Durandal in Xenovia's hands. This in itself was an equivalent or greater boon than obtaining a fragment of Holy Sword Excalibur.

That matter aside, after Griselda had spoken with Xenovia, it was Irina who stood with a blank face in response to the current situation. She obviously couldn't understand it.

How it was that she was the one other than himself to obtain a fragment of Holy Sword Excalibur. It was truly surreal. Not only did she not believe that she had performed better than Xenovia, but she didn't feel as if she deserved it as no matter how the Head Priest had put it, she had only been stuck hiding within a separate dimension. And even then, she was only rescued through the efforts of others, only contributing at the end.

Regardless, she had attained a Holy Sword fragment? It was kind of hard to understand.

Noticing this, the Head Priest elaborated further before he could speak himself.

"Even if you think you are undeserving, what you have right now is courage and heart. In the face of a closing path of escape, not only did you not prioritize herself like many of the others did, you had chosen to defend them with what strength you had," the Head Priest spoke calmly with a nod of approval from Griselda.

When comparing someone truly powerful to one who was only moderately so, the same feat of defending against unbeatable odds would, in turn, have different meaning. Someone who was greatly powerful could be expected to somehow pull off the impossible and in turn gain the further recognition of others. However, in doing so, the opinion of the majority of the people would simply be 'as expected.' In this regard, someone who was only moderately strong and managed to pull of such a feat would be regarded as a hero. Over coming the impossible with what meager strength one had, it was evident which of the two was more impressive.

With the Head Priest's words and Griselda's approval, the hesitance in Irina's eyes wavered before fading as even Xenovia gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"I, I," Irina couldn't settle on anything to say, and in the end, could only speak a meaningful "thank you."

With Irina's troubles dealt with, the Head Priest continued in the use of the complex magic arrays he had on top of his palms.

Soon, the magic array on the altar expanded and two swords began to manifest overtop of the array. One of them was shaped as a battle axe from the hilt down, the hilt itself formed with the sharp edges of an axe's blade. Even the shaft appeared sturdy. This sword was Excalibur Destruction, the fragment of Excalibur recreated into a sword that matched the destructive capability of the fragment.

The other sword was golden coloured, and resembled the shape of a French knife or katana with thick steel at the blunt end of the blade, and thin steel at the edge. Excalibur Mimic, the fragment of Excalibur recreated into a sword that matched the elusiveness of the fragment.

The two swords shone with splendor, a radiance incomparable to that of even the brightest of light swords and even the strongest of refined ones. After all, they were fragments of the world's strongest Holy Sword.

As soon as the two swords had entered his eyes, a life flashed before his eyes.

A man stood atop a hill overlooking the ruins of an army, clouds blotted the sky, and blood ran freely from a wound on his chest. Off to his side was an armoured knight that lay dead with a spear run through him.

The man's position interfaced with a person he knew quite well.

Saber.

Thinking of her caused him to grip his hands into fists.

The man in front of him was near identical to her from his attire, down to his hair and eye colour. If not for the man's gender, then he would have no doubts that Saber was truly in front of him.

What startled him then, were the figures floating high in the air. Some had black pinioned wings, others with wings like a bat. Subconsciously, he realized that he was staring at Fallen Angels and Devils.

From what the Church had explained, King Arthur was a warrior that fought for both the church and Heaven, and was one of the greatest enemies of both the Fallen Angels and Devil factions. Thus, he realized that he was probably glimpsing the final moments of King Arthur. The figure of Camelot behind him was also something he could never mistake after undergoing the dream cycles with Saber.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak to the Fallen and Devils, yet he could not hear his words, rather, all he could do was watch.

Finally, after Arthur said his piece, he raised his sword into the air, and forced himself to his feet. As a boy, he had become a King. As a King, he had lead his people to a time of prosperity. And now as a man, he would die with no regrets.

The images disappeared as Arthur had swung his blade, and in its stead, was a white world devoid of anything except for two swords. Excalibur Destruction, and Excalibur Mimic.

They hovered just about a foot off the ground, a light breeze emanating with them at the center.

 _"_ _This was the place of their creation,_ " the voice inside the necklace spoke. _"A world of white devoid of any impurities to construct a Holy Sword that would be unmatchable. Yet there was something neglected in the process. A person such as yourself should understand the true meaning of what it was that was missed. The difference between the Excalibur in your memories, and the Excalibur created in this world."_

That was,

The crystallization of mankind's dreams, hopes, and desires.

A sword of man created without the concept of humanity who would one day wield it.

Although a good sword, it would never become that which would be as unbreakable as the eternal wishes of mankind.

 _"_ _Precisely,_ " the voice in the necklace verified. _"Without this principle of humanity, the sword created through a perfect concept would forever be flawed despite its brilliance, but,"_ the voice in the necklace paused. " _You can change that by altering the concepts of reality. Just as the blacksmith hammers out the impurities of a sword and refines them, you are that blacksmith."_

 _"_ _To judge the concepts of creation._

 _And Hypothesize the basic structure._

 _All the way up until the reproduction of its growth and manufacturing process, you are the only one capable of this task in this world."_

A faint glow came from the center of his chest, small fine particles of light surrounding him and taking shape into a Sheath. Avalon of the Ever-Distant Utopia, and Sheath to Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory.

Its appearance signalled its approval to the voice in the necklace's words. Looking at the swords hovering in front of him, any feelings of conflict against not being worthy of such a sword instantly vanished. This wasn't about him, nor was it about anyone else. All that mattered was the simple will of the blade prompting him into action.

Almost as soon as this concept of completing the blade took root in his mind, both Excalibur Destruction and Excalibur Mimic began to blur, becoming indiscernible as they shot towards Avalon.

Slipping directly into the sheath the two blades combined to form a single hilt restrained by four seals. Almost as soon as this process occurred, the white world around him began to fade as the voice in the necklace spoke a single sentence.

 _"_ _This time, for sure._ "

With that said, he was no longer staring at a world of white, but rather at the wide-eyed expressions of everyone in the room, making him greatly self-conscious. In fact, more than wide-eyed, it was the uncontainable gleam in both Griselda's and the Head Priests eyes which spoke volumes.

What, what did he do this time?

Just as soon as he was going to ask, he then felt an odd weight in his hand. Turning towards said hand, he couldn't help but gawk as he saw Avalon with a sword sheathed inside it identical to the one he had seen in the white world. Similarly, the four restraints were also there, preventing him from drawing out the sword to inspect it.

Still, what exactly had happened?

In the time that he had been temporarily in a daze in Xenovia and the others perspective, a sheath had suddenly manifested in his hand from glittering lights that came from his chest.

Neither Xenovia nor Irina could identify the sheath, but Griselda and the Head Priest had their suspicions. Said suspicions were only further solidified as the two fragments of Holy Sword Excalibur shot out towards the sheath without warning and _combined_ to form a single sword restrained within the sheath.

The ramifications of such a scene was not something missed by either of the two for it signalled the re-creation of Holy Sword Excalibur.

Yet those were their thoughts, and something he wasn't privy to, so all that he was able to discern was the increased attention on his being.

However, he could do nothing about it for wherever he would go within the Church, everyone would recognize him. He had become too famous as a result of his participation in the Holy Sword Trials, and now that he'd somehow combined the two fragments, he could only imagine the outcome.

"Not one word leaves from this room," Griselda spoke gravely after collecting herself. "Doing so would not be in our best interests."

It could be inferred from Griselda's words that she wished for the fragments of Excalibur to be completed without alerting others to prevent future troubles.

"But Griselda, this matter-"

"Is not something that should be spread around to the other factions let alone some of the more vile from the Vatican," Griselda interrupted. "I'll handle this matter personally," she concluded. "Do all of you understand me?"

Xenovia, Irina, and the Head Priest nodded their heads. As for him, he would not be publicly speaking of this anyway. Hell, he might even get away from an explanation by simply saying he was a magician who possessed a certain type of magic. This was also a benefit of claiming himself a partial magician in this world.

"As for the matter of the other Durandal and what's held within, yes, Xenovia informed me," Griselda gave a quick explanation while the Head Priest was left confused. Still though, Griselda continued. "Those matters will also be classified."

Griselda's eyes then turned toward the Winged Sentinels, her action causing a great anxiety to form within the Head Priest. Previously, two relics of the church had been destroyed under the supervision of the Head Priest. Said relics were irreplaceable, and as such, it was understandable that the Head Priest wanted to make it up somehow. The arrival of the Winged Sentinels was the answer, and now Griselda may very well deny the Head Priest the ability to inform.

This was the cause of the Head Priest's anxiety. Luckily, that wasn't the case.

"We must inform the Heavens at our quickest behest, but we are not to explain how they had come to the mortal realm," Griselda raised her finger as the Head Priest opened his mouth. Apparently, Griselda had already predicted what the Head Priest would say, answering "You can tell them a simple truth that the Sentinels had come as a result of the examinees returning in an unorthodox means."

Griselda's piece said, the Head Priest was quick to shut his mouth and leave to report, lest Griselda take back her words.

From there, the matter was concluded in secrecy as Irina was gifted her own Holy Sword that wasn't quite on the level of a fragment of Holy Sword Excalibur, but was strong in and out of itself.

* * *

A year had passed since the Holy Sword Trials, and the funeral for all those who had passed away was held in accordance. Over the course of said year, Griselda had been personally keeping his existence secret from the world, and at the same time training him diligently with Xenovia.

Speaking of which, both Xenovia and Irina had somehow been placed in a mission's team that underwent tasks for the Church in recent months. Both of them had been doing well, and had become well versed in their respective sword arts.

Xenovia, on her part, with the Second Durandal flourished in one hand, and her own Durandal in the other, had made leaps and bound in her progress with the blade. However, for some reason her sparring opponents, all without fail, had the impression as if they were facing a bull. Her attacks were not refined, nor did she display frightening technique, rather, she relied completely on overwhelming her opponents with the sheer power of utilizing two Holy Swords. It wasn't that the energy was hard to control, making it impossible to direct it accurately, but rather, her style really was to focus completely on attack.

This made him worry about what would happen one day when she met an opponent who far surpassed her in strength. This was something he didn't have to worry about with Irina as she was well balanced in her sword skills.

Griselda didn't admonish Xenovia's behaviour as of late ever since she discovered the first time that he had decided to give Xenovia pointers. From then on, he somehow ended up trying to correct Xenovia's fighting style on behalf of Griselda who watched from the side.

Similar situations would also continue to occur as Griselda manipulated things from the background to give Xenovia as many opportunities with him as possible. Of course, he didn't know of such things and earnestly just wished to help Xenovia lest she run into any danger in the future. Unbeknownst to him, that earnesty and concern for her well being greatly moved Xenovia even if she didn't voice it. As a result, the words Griselda had once said at the end of the Holy Sword Trials continued to float around at the foremost point of Xenovia's mind.

Other matters that occurred within the past year was the collection of the Winged Sentinels by Heaven's representatives. He was not able to catch a glimpse of them though as Griselda had instructed him to remain in his room, but he had still heard of their astonishment. Very quickly, the Sentinels were taken to the Heavens where they were placed in a secured location. As the Sentinels obeyed no one but one individual, to transport the Winged-Sentinels, the Angels had to manually do it. Recalling what had happened in the Dimensional Cross, he wasn't sure if the Sentinels would still obey his commands, but he wasn't in the position to test it anyway.

The more important matter concerning himself was the odd silence of the voice in the necklace. Ever since the end of the trials and the merging of the Sword Fragments, it had not spoken to him once. Rather, he could tell even without Structural Analysis that the necklace was gathering power in a form of hibernation. The answers he had hoped to attain after passing some sort of trial issued by the necklace were frustratingly put aside. He only hoped that whatever form of hibernation the necklace was in, the voice in the necklace would wake up some time soon.

Presently, he was on his way to a meeting Griselda had called him for. His attire consisted mainly of a long white cloak fashioned to fully conceal the sword and sheath fastened directly to his side. Said sheath was Avalon, and the sword was the two Fragments of Excalibur.

Like mentioned before, ever since witnessing him merge together the two Holy Swords fragments, Griselda had been training him non-stop. Similarly, she had begun inquiring about the present statuses of the other fragments of Holy Sword Excalibur. This action was understandable as she wished to completely reform the blade.

Still though, as a result of Griselda's training, he could not deny the effects of it. His swordsmanship had greatly improved.

In training, he was only able to use a standard sword as he was unable to draw out the merged fragments due to the four restraints that appeared with the merging and the sheathing process within the white world.

As he had just woken up in the morning, he was sure that Griselda's summons would involve another training session as normal. However, for some reason or another, she had decided to call him to the Church's back yard.

Xenovia and Irina as her partner, would normally be accompanying him at this time, but the both of them had been called for a mission by the church to work in some remote part of Italy. they would be back within the month though.

As he was in the process of laying low as a direct result of Griselda's orders, he unlike Xenovia and Irina was exempt from missions in favour of training.

Yet somehow, he knew that today was going to be different.

This assumption only deepened when he saw Griselda sitting at the terrace of the backyard sipping idly at a cup of tea.

Telling him to sit first, Griselda offered him a cup of refreshments in which he politely refused. Based on how Griselda had even singled him out from both Xenovia and Irina who were considerably prominent in the younger generation of Church operatives, he could tell the gravity of the situation.

His assumption was correct since Griselda didn't even bat an eye at his refusal for refreshments because it was simply a formality anyway. Besides, Griselda wasn't one to beat around the bush. In fact, Xenovia got her straight forward personality from Griselda.

After sitting down, he waited patiently for Griselda to speak her mind under the tranquility of the scenery. The backyard of the church faced a small pond with vegetation growing on either side. Small fish swam just beneath the pond's surface with growing water lilies and aquatic plants near the edges of the water.

Finally, Griselda spoke after a moment of time.

"What do you know of the Holy Maiden?" She asked out of the blue.

The Holy Maiden was an idol within the church and even to the common people for her compassion, reverence to God, and her ability to heal the poor and wounded with a miraculous light. A Sacred Gear named Twilight Healing. Because of this ability, she was held in high regard by all the church authorities.

"The woman who helped a devil?" Was his response after thinking on the matter.

In recent months, word had travelled within the Church community about the Holy Maiden aiding a Devil. To some, it wasn't much of a big deal and could easily be put aside, but somehow, the matter had been blown completely out of proportion to the point of exiling the Maiden. From another perspective, things had concluded way to fast to not harbour any doubts about the ruling. Even he had his own reservations on the matter.

"Precisely," Griselda nodded her head before staring out towards the pond in silence.

She didn't speak again until the cloud up in the sky began to part and reveal the light of the sun. Turning to face him, her calm face shifted into one of expectation.

"What if I'm to say I have a mission for you?" She asked.

He simply raised a brow in response as she began to elaborate.

"Normally, I would be against sending you out for any mission at the moment as I'm more concerned about raising your strength. You have no idea the effects you would have should anyone know of your abilities, and the sword locked within that sheath," Griselda spoke with caution.

"Then why send me?" He asked.

Griselda didn't respond right away, and took a moment to place her cup down.

"You should know how I've been inquiring about the status of the other fragments of Holy Sword Excalibur," Griselda stated.

He nodded his head.

"Well, let's just say I've heard some troubling rumours," Griselda said cryptically. "Undoubtedly, you will have to go on this mission as it would prove vital to the completion of Excalibur."

"And that would be?" He asked curiously.

Griselda shook her head. "I can't say without definite proof, but sending you to the general area should not be something detrimental to you, but rather it will depend on the political balance."

"Political balance?" He asked. He really felt like he was just parroting, asking question after question, yet he really did not know what Griselda meant.

"Your mission places you in a territory controlled by Devils, and as such you may run into them. Just don't be too reckless and they shouldn't attack you lest they break the peace treaty of the factions," Griselda then seemed to recall something. "Oh, and you might want to switch your attire away from anything that would associate you with the Church. It will simply be easier for you that way as you're not required to act unless the situation calls for it."

"Then what does this have to do with the Holy Maiden?"

"That is your mission," Griselda said as she handed out a piece of parchment for him to read.

The mission required for him to investigate the circumstance of the Holy Maiden, and look out for her long enough for Griselda to investigate the circumstances of the Holy Maiden's exile. The mission itself was issued by Griselda.

"The mission is only the cover," Griselda explained after a moment. "The true purpose of your presence there is to verify something else, and by then, you should understand everything on your own."

Griselda then elaborated further.

Near the end of the conversation, he realized one thing though.

He would be going to Japan.

And more specifically,

He would be going back to school.

* * *

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	8. Kuoh Academy: Part 2

Stepping down his feet once again on Japanese soil felt like a novelty experience after being away from the country for so long, but it paled in comparison to the shock of seeing the figures in front of him.

Griselda had told him that upon his arrival, she had arranged for trusted individuals to guide him towards his lodging where he would stay for the completion of the mission. Of course, said mission was not something that he was obligated to fulfill, yet he was also grateful for all the efforts Griselda had done on his behalf, and so followed though with it. And even if he thought more on the matter, there really wasn't anything else he could do at the moment. With the voice in the necklace still silent, he was at a loss as to what to do next. It was unquestionable that one of his main objectives was to find a way back to his world, but at this point, he no leads aside from the fact that he and the necklace were both transported by the creek of the old Church. From there, it wasn't difficult to gather that there was a purpose in his close arrival near the Church. Even more so when he recalled that the necklace had prompted him to seek refuge in the Church in the first place. As such, until the necklace spoke out once more, he was resigned to working along with the Church so long as their principles don't stray too far from his. It was a win-win sort of situation. Where he would be running errands for the Church while at the same time, relieving himself of the debt over his shoulders and his decision in regards to Excalibur. For the sake of the memories he had with Saber, he felt that he owed it to her to see the blade to completion.

In that way, at least he would have no regrets should he somehow return back to Fuyuki.

Yet back to present matters, the so called 'individuals' Griselda had informed him of before hand were truly too eye-catching. In fact, apart from the wryly smiling man standing a distance at their side, the rest were entirely dressed up in the white exorcist cloaks that Xenovia insisted was appropriate combat gear after the experience in the Dimensional Cross. After all, the long cloaks had minor enchantments that provided some deal of protections without sacrificing too much versatility. Besides, knowing Xenovia, she was a practical sort of woman despite her questionable common sense. For example, she didn't even react to the numerous stares on her person whenever she travelled out, and that was in Italy. In Japan, the streets were far more crowded and as such, the stares could only be more piercing from a larger audience. Yet Xenovia, that thick-skinned woman, probably wouldn't even have had noticed a difference.

However, it was true that Xenovia was unique. In fact, the majority of the cloaked individuals appeared quite flustered being at the center of attention.

Inwardly, he couldn't help but try to understand why they would wear such clothing if they themselves were too embarrassed to wear it? And hadn't Griselda advised him not to wear anything related to the Church? Then why would they, but not him?

"I apologize," the man standing a distance away from the cloaked individuals stepped forward while pushing the glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "Would you accept it if I said we were short on time?"

As soon as the man finished speaking, it was clear that a strange tension filled the air as the cloaked individuals stared at the man in disbelief.

"T-Teacher, how could you say that, this was all your fault!" One of the cloaked figures accused while pointing a finger. Clearly, she had her grievances with the situation.

The man straightened out his sleek dark-blue coloured tailored suit, and acted as if he had heard nothing, replying back absently that it was only a matter of perception and that the man could not be blamed for the circumstance.

Hearing this, the girl who had pointed a finger in accusation almost seemed to burst a vein, and looked as if she wanted nothing more than to pound the man's handsome face in with her fists. Obviously, she wasn't the only one.

Many of the other cloaked individuals seemed to be harbouring such thoughts based on their expressions and body language alone.

In fact, many of the boys in the group appeared eager to volunteer to 'mess with a pretty boy,' as they all individually put it.

They muttered the phrase in small voices and even subtly glanced at each other, but none of this was able to escape his keen sight and hearing. Truly, this man with the wavy brown-hair parted down the center and roguish features was quite hated at the moment.

However, the man seemed to share a common trait with Xenovia, and perhaps even to a higher degree. The man just didn't appear to care at all, standing relaxed under the ill-concealed glances of the cloaked group.

"Shirou Emiya. Correct?" The man asked, placing a hand in a pant-pocket and retrieving a small leather wallet with a note inside. "No doubt about it," the man ascertained quickly.

He couldn't even answer, and was left quite speechless with the man's next actions.

The man flippantly shooed away the group of cloaked individuals under the watchful eyes of the crowd and acted as if he didn't even know them.

This behaviour was just too horrendous for words, and if even he felt it was inappropriate, he couldn't even begin to imagine the kind of anger the cloaked individuals were feeling.

Was this man truly a member of the Church? From what he'd seen and heard, most members of the Church were thoughtful to each other, supportive when needed, and amicable when speaking.

Yet this man, how could he possibly be someone an upright woman like Griselda trusted?

His thoughts were proven wrong in the next moment when the man suddenly adopted a serious look as all of the crowd's eyes were drawn to the leaving cloaked-group of frustrated individuals.

"One can only hide the best in the shadows when light shines at its brightest," the man whispered quietly before performing a quick gesture to follow.

The contrast in how the man was acting before and now, was simply to mind blowing that he immediately began to reassess the man. If what he had seen before was not just made up in the moment, but calculated, it was clear for him to understand how meticulous, shrewd, and calculating this man was. The man had willing placed those under him in an awkward and uncomfortable situation, and had then played with their frustration without hesitation just to avert the attention of others away. It was formidable to the extent that he could not doubt this man's capabilities.

Maneuvering smoothly through the crowd at the airport, the man escorted him into a car set up beforehand before then entering on the driver's seat.

"So," the man began in the silence of the drive. The bustling and lively streets of Japan could be seen from out the tinted and shut windows. "You can call me Ayakoji Esposito. I've heard a lot about you from Griselda, and since she has called in this favour, I can only do my best to please and hope for a reward. Preferably the 'Adult kind.' For a woman of her stature and particular assets, truly me efforts will exceed the thresholds of a mere favour."

It was only now that he understood why Griselda had broken character and had written such a note only to be read after meeting Ayakoji Esposito.

Fumbling with his hands, he soon pulled out said note, and didn't hesitate to speak the message Griselda had written.

"Go. Fuck. Yourself."

They were only three words but it was enough to temporarily shatter the image he had built of her.

Ayakoji laughed raucously before seeming to reminisce about old times. "She knows she loves me, she just doesn't know it yet." Ayakoji said, mirth clearly present in his tone.

He was perplexed for a moment, and felt oddly uncomfortable, but still asked anyway. "How would she know if she doesn't know?" He asked.

Ayakoji didn't answer, after all, it was an inside joke.

"If you look to the left compartment by your side, the mission details are stored within there inside a small envelope," Ayakoji spoke next after a brief period of silent driving. Ayakoji's tone had become considerably more serious as the topic of the mission took precedence. "You'll have to dispose of it after reading through its contents as you will be entering Devil Territory. Land controlled by the Gremory and Sitri if my memory serves me well. As such, contact with devils will be unavoidable, making it in your best interests not to stir a hornet's nest. The context of this mission is just a simple investigation into the matters of the Holy Maiden issued by Griselda before making a quiet exit from Devil territory. Should the Devils learn of your ties to the Church, it wouldn't be detrimental due to the current treaty between the Factions, but it may affect the results of the investigation. Remember, it was because of a Devil that the Holy Maiden had fallen from grace in the first place. Who's to say that the true culprit is not watching from the shadows eh?"

Ayakoji's words were a lot to take in, but after supplementing Ayakoji's words with what he was reading in the envelope, a picture was steadily forming in his mind based off the current situation. The situation really was quite precarious where even the slightest mistake could offset something far larger. This being the case, why had Griselda still sent him towards such a politically dangerous area knowing the possible consequences?

At that moment, he couldn't help but glance down at the black suitcase positioned just on top of his lap, knowing what exactly it contained within it. No other thoughts were necessary.

"You best be careful," Ayakoji warned. "I run a branch of the Church a distance away from the Gremory and Sitri's territory, but I can in no way successfully aid you in your troubles without risking a recommencement of the war between Factions. You will only have your own strength to rely on once inside."

He nodded to show that he understood Ayakoji's warning.

Eventually, after around an hour or two of driving, Ayakoji led him into a large and furnished condo suite near Kuoh Acadamy, the school he would be attending for the time being as it was arguably the most suitable cover for someone of his age.

Inside the furnished combo, an old butler and maid stood standing at attention. It was clear to see that they had been the ones to maintain the cleanliness and appeal of the living space. However, seeing them, he knew he was going to have problem with having others take care of him when he had the ability to do so himself. Even more so when he took into account the age of his caretakers. Surely, it should have had been the other way around with him taking care of the old individuals instead.

As soon as he tried to voice this, he was immediately met with opposition as the old individuals carried pride in their work.

"Such matters as keeping the place clean and attending to your meals will not bother us. In fact, we find it a privilege to aid someone little Griselda spoke so highly of."

Little Griselda? He supposed it was an appropriate title based on the age of the old caretakers.

Matters reluctantly settled on his part, Ayakoji settled motioned for everyone to take a seat. The interior of the room was large, so even though everyone had taken a seat, the room was far from anywhere near full.

"Well, my purpose in bringing you here is done. All that's left is everything on your end of the investigation," Ayakoji spoke, relaxing into a recliner. "I'm sure we all know of the incident with the Devil that caused her excommunication, and I'm fairly sure of a hunch I have in regards to this matter."

"And that would be?" He asked, mulling over a few things in his mind.

"Just by the rumours floating around Italy alone, it's not difficult to find word of the Holy Maidens disposition and personality towards others in need," Ayakoji began.

"Of course, she wouldn't have been so idolized within the Church had it not been for her earnest actions and overflowing compassion," the Old butler commented.

"Yet we all know how much that reputation got her," Ayakoji rebutted, placing a sour look over the Old Butler's face. "Her reputation and actions sum up to nothing more than a fart in the eyes of the higher-ranking Church members. In fact, the process was too smooth."

"Your hinting that the Church wishes to cover something up?" He asked uncertainly.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ayakoji spoke. "Not all Church officials are uncorrupted, look at Valper Galilei and what he had done."

He was unfamiliar with the name Valper Galilei, but based on the context, he was sure that Valper Galilei had done something notably sinister within the Church. And based off the distasteful expressions on the old maid and butler's faces, it was something that was widely known yet only he was un-privy too.

He put the matter aside for now, it wasn't like he could change a situation that's already happened.

"Even if they wanted to cover something up, the process was too damn quick," Ayakoji snorted. "They must have had help of some kind. Otherwise, how could there be no interference in the Holy Maiden's excommunication after all her actions and contributions? A severe reprimand would have had been acceptable, but a excommunication? It's absurd unless,"

Ayakoji crossed his arms and wet his lips before continuing to the main argument of his hunch.

"Unless the object a third party would be interested in was her Sacred Gear, Twilight Healing," Ayakoji proposed. "It wouldn't only become easier to possess once the Holy Maiden had lost the Church's protection."

He remained silent momentarily to gather his thoughts after Ayekoji finished speaking.

From the information, he had read up on regarding the Holy Maiden, Asia Argento, her Sacred Gear Twilight Healing allowed her to heal almost any injury to perfection. However, it cannot regenerate limbs nor restore exhaustion or cure illness. Although there was more than one Twilight Healing in the world, it was still a rare Sacred Gear with many positive uses.

"Then the reason this investigation is occurring is to determine who that third party is and clear the Holy Maiden's name?" He asked.

"Naturally," Ayekoji responded with too quickly.

He furrowed his brows, but didn't think to much on the matter in favour of asking his own question.

"Where is Asia Argento now?" He asked.

Ayekoji placed a hand under his chin while the old maid and butler stood silently at the side.

"Last we've heard, she had gotten involved with a faction of Fallen Angels," Ayekoji hummed. "Perhaps you can start from there? But for now," Ayekoji stood up and moved towards the clothes rack, grabbing a thin jacket from it. "I will have to go before those under me die of embarrassment, or God forbid, plot against me. Needless to say, be careful."

With that said, Ayekoji left the condo in a stealthy manor, and soon left the borders of the Gremory and Sitri territory.

He sighed, mulling over the information he was provided, before giving up, unable to decide how he could even begin to start his investigation.

However, there was one thing he knew though based on Ayekoji's conjecture.

There was a person to be saved.

And in the end, for someone like him.

That was all that mattered.

* * *

The Area around Kuoh Academy was interesting if anything. It was normal in the sense that everything was ordinary, but what truly caught his attention and gave him a feeling of foreboding was the ratio of male to female moving in the direction of Kuoh Academy.

What Griselda had neglected to inform him of was that Kuoh Academy had once been an all girls Academy before just recently becoming coed. As such, the number of young women in Kuoh Academy uniforms far outnumbered those of the men. He was getting a bad feeling about attending this school, a _really_ bad one, and that was after he had met some spectacled girl attending the Academy. She had brown hair tied up in twin-tails, and her face neither sleek nor narrow, giving her an average sort of look that was still eye catching to most men, but not too enticing.

He didn't know it at the time, but this girl was named Aika Kiryuu, and something about her just caused him to shiver. Even more so when her eyes drifted to land in-between his legs.

From there, he had high-tailed it out of there.

He was never one to pick his battles, nor shy away from danger.

But somehow, he felt that the danger he would be facing was a very _different_ kind of danger. One he was not willing to find out.

As such, he had eventually ended up just wandering the streets, all further thoughts of visiting Kuoh Academy temporarily put aside until he would eventually have to go there. For now, he still had a day or two before he was required to go in for a meeting with the faculty and staff who would assign him his homeroom and class.

With his previous experience with just the students attending, the foreboding and uneasy feeling he felt towards the place only further increased.

He had to think.

That was all he had to do at the moment.

Use what he knew, and try to come up with an appropriate guess to the location of the Holy Maiden.

He ended up scratching his head. This sort of task what not something he would normally handle. It was more in line with something his friend Issei from Homurahara would be able to tackle, and better yet, Rin Tohsaka.

He had been called the Brownie of Homurahara due to his efforts in aiding others without much thought of others personal view of him. In a way, his insistence to help others while disregarding what others thought of him was comparable to Xenovia's uncaring attitude. Yet, they were still not the same. Sometimes, he just gets caught up in the moment.

His musing eventually lead him to take a break on a park bench and reconsider the angle he was thinking from. He shouldn't think of what _he_ would do should he get excommunicated, but what a holy Maiden like Asia would have had done.

Asia Argento was loved by many that knew her, yet that was only for her healing abilities. Subsequently, her combat strength was nowhere near enough to protect herself. This was probably why she had allowed herself to be taken under a group of Fallen Angels like Ayakoji had spoken off. That being the case, where would a group of Fallen Angels reside within a territory under the jurisdiction of Devils?

The answer was definitely hard to come by as he did not have the geographical advantage of knowing the area yet. Perhaps if he had been able to explore the surroundings more he could have had hopefully come up with something plausible. Yet right now, all he was doing was aimlessly wandering.

Thinking back to the question of where a group of Fallen Angels would hide within an area under Devil rule, he eventually came up with an answer. A place where Devils would naturally not go. A Church.

Yet from the knowledge he had obtained through further discussion with Ayakjoji, the last of the Church's influence in the area had already been withdrawn in regards to the treaty between the Factions. As such, there was no actual active Church in the entire area. This presented his idea with a problem, however, upon returning and speaking with the old maid at his lodgings, he came to know of a particular church in the area.

It was abandoned long ago, but its structure was still maintained by the local residents who didn't wish to see a Church look like it had been over grown by forestation. Thus, weeds were pulled, and vines were cut to maintain the general appearance of a Church despite there no longer being any Clergy members within it.

In other words, it was simply a decoration. Something one could look at and be able to appreciate from a distance.

However, to Devils, the structure of the Church itself was damaging. As beings naturally opposed to God's light, they had a natural aversion to such places and could in fact even be pained by just entering. It was similar to how a Devil could not pray to God in fear of undergoing a sudden excruciating torment.

Thinking along those lines, he finally had a lead into the investigation.

Speaking of which, he finally realized something trivial, but by no means was it significant. He had been speaking in Italian since the very moment he had arrived in this new world similar to his own. It was only made apparent to him after noticing the difference when he saw the contrast to the way he spoke to the old maid and butler who spoke in Italian, and the Japanese people in the street.

He didn't know how it was possible at the moment, but again, he didn't place as much importance on it when compared to the current objective.

With a task at hand, he didn't waste anymore time and immediately set off towards the direction of the Church after asking the old maid and butler of its specific location.

It didn't take him long to arrive just as the sky began to darken in the evening hours.

He could see the Church in the distance. Like he had heard, it was well maintained, but somehow, in the shadows of the descending night, it seemed to give off an ominous sort of feeling.

There were no signs of people around him, even when the streets had once been bustling in the earlier hours. Everyone seemed to have had just disappeared, leaving behind only the abandoned Church before him.

Streets that should have had been filled were empty.

The night life that was even apparent in Fuyuki was no where to be found.

It was too abnormal.

His pace immediately quickened, his eyes narrowing as a gentle thrum reverberated from the necklace around his neck as he approached the abandoned Church.

A contemplative look flashed across his face, was the voice finally returning? Contrary to his hopes, no voice came from the necklace, and instead it just continued to thrum gently.

Even then, it was probably a sign of something supernatural occurring. It was the same during the Holy Sword Trials, and it should be the same now.

With further vigilance, he approached the Church cautiously.

Somehow, in doing so, he was reminded of a scene that had occurred during the Fifth Holy Grail War located in Fuyuki. He was uninvolved with the battle at the time, but the situation was one where he was helpless to do anything in the battle between Gilgamesh and Berserker, and the subsequent results.

Again, it was just a feeling, but this time Rin wasn't present to stop him.

Releasing a breath, he noticed a particular scent in the distance: Ash, ozone, and feathers. He knew then that something was indeed occurring within the Church at this very moment, and he would likely be involved in the middle of it. He was sure of this since his nose was something like a magical tracker, able to pinpoint the use of magic anywhere near his approximate area.

Light flashed in the distance, accompanied by streaking strikes of thunder that crackled and echoed out across the Church ground.

Zooming in on the location, it didn't take long before he arrived to see a broken battlefield. Pot holes filled the ground, and at times, massive craters completely altered the layout of the grounds. The trees growing in the distance were chipped and pierced in several locations that left them in a miserable sight.

The moon loomed in the sky, a cold wind blowing creating a draft and picking up something peculiar along with it.

"Hmm," he hummed in thought. Afterwards, he knelt down and picked up the damaged black feather blown into view by the wind.

At this point, he was familiar with what this black feather entailed.

Fallen Angels.

Yet from the looks of it, they had encountered trouble, and one with power that far outstripped theirs. In fact, when he looked at the feather, nothing seemed off about it aside from the damage near the base, but when looking at it with his enhanced eyes, he could see something peculiar. A destructive energy still lingering over the feather, eating away at it and leaving nothing behind.

It was truly a dangerous power or phenomenon.

He placed the feather down and watched it fade away after once again being picked up by the wind.

"You're late if you were trying to make the battle," a tired voice echoed out across the recently made clearing.

He turned his gaze in the voice's direction.

In the end, what he saw was a man just barely keeping himself and the two others with him together. Yet even he could tell from just a glance that they wouldn't survive. Not only did small crackles of electricity dance across their bodies, but even remnants of the same destructive power he detected within the Fallen's feather was present on them to a degree.

From what he could tell, the enemy had had the strength to permit a quick death, but the crackles of electricity still clinging to the body of the three spoke volumes of the attacker's temperament towards enemies. Furthermore, he could tell that the lightning user was probably the main attacker of the three, evident by the harsh burns scattered across the three's bodies.

This was probably due to the final attack the lightning user must have had used to finish them off, but perhaps the person may have underestimated the will power of the three-presumed dead. Well, technically they _were_ going to die with their injuries anyway.

Yet, what gave him pause was the distinct black wings that they had on their backs.

They were Fallen Angels.

"What happened here?" He asked.

The man glanced at him from beneath the tattered fedora he was wearing, and answered thusly. "Devils," the man lamented. "They were too strong as you can see."

He furrowed his brows after the man's answer. "They wouldn't attack you for no reason. Not with the treaty between Factions." This was a point repeated to him over and over again, and the sole reason Ayakoji and Griselda had continued to remind him to be careful.

The man didn't utter a word before he laughed hoarsely. "Can you blame us? Wanting to achieve higher heights with the meager strength we have."

A light still seemed to burn strongly from within the man's eyes. "Tonight, we have been defeated, but that doesn't mean everything's over." The man coughed out a mouthful of blood. "By now the ritual should have been completed."

He filed away what the man said at the moment, and instead decided to follow in his own ideals. "Yet what does that have to do with you?" He asked. "You and the others beside you are going to die."

His words gave the man pause, an undiscernible look flashing across his face.

At that point, no words were spoken any longer, and instead, all that was left was the silence, and the sound of three rasped breaths.

Suddenly, the man's eyes widened. "What are you doing?" The man asked in confusion.

It was understandable.

After all, he was currently propping up one of the man's two companions by a tree and attempting to staunch the bleeding.

He didn't answer back. He knew just from the conversation with the man that the man would not understand his reason to help others. In a way, he was similar to the Holy Maiden, Asia Argento for choosing to help others that he shouldn't. Even still, it was who he was.

Unexpectedly, his actions lead to a severe reaction from the necklace around his neck, and suddenly, he was no longer within the recently made clearing attending to the fallen. Instead, he appeared within a white room, in which stood a man in white robes who's features could not be distinguished.

 _"_ _You are worthy,"_ the man's voice was tranquil, like moving water, and it had a tone to it that would leave others with a pleasant feeling. He was no different despite how difficult it was to affect him if at all.

The voice then continued. _"Speak of a wish, and I shall grant it upon you. Riches, beauties, entertainment,"_ the voice paused for a moment before delivering an offer that visibly shook him. _"A way back to the world in which you came?"_

He stood rooted, his heart clenching as he thought about returning to the embrace of the two he left behind. It was enticing, truly. In the timespan of the Fifth Holy Grail War, his relationship with both Rin Tohsaka and Saber weren't as distant as to be called acquaintances, but was actually close enough to be more than friends. He missed them, he truly did.

And then he thought back to the form of the dying Fallen he had been attempting to save, and every thought he had of returning just fell completely apart. He couldn't abandon them. Not in their situation in desperate need of saving. Rin and Saber, he could understand just from his presence in this world, that the possibility of the two being safe was extremely high. Gilgamesh was defeated and the Tainted Grail destroyed. Nothing was left to jeopardize their lives. The Fallen on the other hand, they would die without help.

"I do not need anything," he spoke.

The figure of the man seemed to grow brighter after his words. He didn't pay attention to this though, and continued to say what he had in mind.

"Instead, I would rather have the strength to be able to be of help to those around me, and save those who can't save themselves," he concluded without much thought. He had solidified this way of thinking after his confrontation with Archer.

The figure of the man was no longer able to be seen, in its place was a bright light that truly blinding.

In that light, the voice spoke.

 _"_ _Then you best return."_

In the instantaneous moment as he disappeared from the white realm, the figure of the man appeared again, a highly expectant expression over his face.

 _"_ _I would have expected nothing less. You are different from him, but perhaps someone like you pursues a path that can not be perceived so easily,"_ the voice finished.

Yet, he could no longer hear the words of the voice.

When he realized that he was back within the recently made clearing, the entire place was bathed in a resplendent white light that focused much of its intensity on the area around him.

"T-This light?!" The man's eyes seemed to bug out from his face, and even the man's injured partners woke up from their injuries to stare in disbelief and unconscious reverence.

The wounds on the Fallen Angel's bodies healed at a visible rate, the crackling of lightning extinguishing into nothing, and even the power of destruction eating away at them could do nothing more than fade as it took in more than it could consume.

Even he upon seeing such a seen shared a similar shock to the Fallen Angels.

What came off as even more of a shock was the symbol of a white cross that appeared at the back hand of each Fallen Angel.

After a few seconds, the light around him died down, returning everything to normal.

The Fallen Angels all became mute, staring at him as if what they were seeing could not possibly be real. Yet no matter how hard they tried, nothing they did could change what they were seeing.

The man stared at him, not saying anything, but it was clear that something had changed from within.

He couldn't understand why, but he just knew.

The man's companions staggered onto their feet despite no visible injuries on their bodies anymore.

"D-Dohnaseek t-this is?!" One of Dohnaseeks's comrades exclaimed.

It was a beautiful looking woman with a curvaceous figure, and long and silk-like hair that draped down her shoulders.

Before anymore questions could be asked, the man, Dohnaseek, raised a hand to silence them.

Dohnaseek stared at him, and in turn, he stared back without any changes in his expression.

"In the Church, there's one more," Dohnaseek spoke before he hesitated. "I-I did not think that you were still alive."

Dohnaseek's words confused him, but he had little time to think on the matter as an explosion bore a hole into the side of the distant Church.

"I-We, we will meet again," Dohnaseek said before pulling along his two stunned companions and taking to the air before disappearing.

He could only permit himself time to nod at Dohnaseek's words, before instantly moving in the direction of the Church.

Arriving at the entrance, he was met with the sight of numerous Exorcists strewn across the ground, many having succumbed to their injuries. It seemed as if a bomb had gone off within the room, nothing had been able to escape damage.

It was in this process of surveying the room that his eyes landed on an entrance that led to a basement beneath the Church's main floor where the sounds of fighting could still be heard.

Unhesitatingly, he made his way towards it, walking quickly down the small flight of stairs to witness the scene within.

There were numerous people in the room, but almost immediately he recognized the appearance of the Holy Maiden, Asia Argento from the profile he had seen of her, yet she lay still held in the arms of a brown-haired boy with a red gauntlet on his right arm.

Similar to the Holy Maiden, the form of another Fallen Angel lay sprawled on the ground under the mercy of a red-haired woman who was about to fire an orb of destruction.

Seeing such a scene, and still being unaware of the terms of the situation, he could only ask the only question on his mind.

"What is going on?" his voice was unintentionally imposing.

Unknowingly, an aura of suppression gushed from his body, a shimmering light emitting from the necklace around his neck, and a fleeting image of ten rings forming around his fingers before fading.

A single step forward, and it was like a flood had been released to the occupants of the room; greatly confusing him as power seemed to return to the Fallen Angel as she made a quick get away past the stiff bodies, blasting a hole through the building.

He blinked, and at that moment-

"You really were more a fool than what she told me,"

-A voice echoed beside his ears before the world around him spun into a blur.

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 **Next update: The Vasto of White.**

-Note: Started a Fiction Press account on the Fanfiction Sister site and published a story: The Lonely Peak for any interested. The Sister site is actually quite fun for those wanting to practice writing a completely original story. It will be a side hobby of sorts.


	9. Intermission

**Intermission:**

Sitting atop a stone rock and chewing from a loaf of stale bread, a girl spat out the food in discontent before sighing as she pulled the hood over her head down further.

This girl was Xenovia, and she had long since past the point of simple irritation. In fact, she was increasingly frustrated.

"It shouldn't be that bad, here, look," another girl spoke to her, wearing a similar white cloak to her own.

This was Irina, and currently in her hands was an identical loaf of stale bread. With experienced hands, she quickly dug her fingers near the base of the loaf and tore off a piece which she then stabbed with a stick, roasting the bread near the fire. "Papa used to take me camping in preparation for emergency's and developing survival skills. Although it doesn't change the fact that we don't have much food right now, at least we can eat it better? You know, it softens a bit in the heat after a bit of water."

 _Is that so_?

For a moment, her brows raised, but she then grunted; her tone evidently depressed as her gaze lingered on the empty containers not too far away from the fire.

A flare of anger welled up from within her.

"With the amount prepared, if you didn't eat them so fast and rationed them, we might not be in this situation," she replied heatedly.

Irina could only laugh awkwardly, yet there were no signs of regret on her face even knowing that she had eaten a far larger share.

Irina rubbed her nose before complaining inwardly to herself. " _You get to eat it more often anyway_."

Unlike her, Irinia couldn't be as shameless to barge in on someone's room for her own selfish demands without reason. Irina's loss then.

Still, those were containers previously filled with mouth watering food that she had insisted Shirou make for her and Irina in large quantities for their previous mission to head for the Holy City within Italy, the Vatican.

The Second Durandal on her waist which she dubbed 'Durandal X' after watching a certain advertisement while walking through Italy, seemed to whine as she used it to cut off a piece of the stale bread. She then, imitating Irina's previous actions, roasted the piece over the fire before putting it in her mouth.

Her face scrunched up in disgust, but at least it was chewable now, like a hard candy with the consistency of sand. She held herself back from glaring at Irina and instead thought back to the results of the mission.

The Vatican, the world's strongest Holy Center of the Church's beliefs. It was there that she and Irina were tasked by Griselda to meet an old friend of hers, named Martha, one of the people that could be trusted with information of Durandal X. Yet unexpectedly, Griselda's old friend was not alone during the reception. Instead, the nun had a troubled and guilt ridden look on her face that spoke of the circumstances. Beside the nun were an entire group of clergies donning the vibrant reds and yellows of high priests.

She had considered and decided to withhold information at that moment, and seeing this, Irina reluctantly followed suit. Griselda had been clear to her of the importance of keeping Durandal X a secret on a need to know basis, and this was why she didn't speak even as the clergymen inquired about Durandal X wrapped in cloth in her hands. Even wrapped, a mere cloth could not contain the Holy Aura the sword naturally exuded.

Speculations had begun to rise at that moment, but the people present were not ill-informed. They already knew of her, the current wielder of Durandal, and how she kept the sword in a sealed state in a pocket dimension. The Durandal X wrapped in cloth exhibited a force no lesser than the original Durandal, and it was not in a pocket dimension.

It was her miscalculation. She had prepared Durandal X beforehand as hard evidence for the explanation she was going to give Griselda's old friend. Little did she expect the situation she would be put in because of it, under constant questioning.

Still, she remained quiet until the time she became fed up and walked out of the room, meeting alone with Martha at another time in secret, and asking Irina to distract the other clergy. Martha then explained the circumstance of the previous situation.

It was all because of the Winged Sentinels that were suddenly brought to the Vatican after the Holy Sword Trials. Even with the Head Priest's explanation, it was clear that many still harboured suspicions about where such a miraculous find was discovered. That, and even with Griselda's pressuring, some of the priests and nuns involved in the Holy Sword Trials felt obligated to share their discoveries. It was fortunate though that she had refused anyone from inspecting Durandal X when she exited the Dimensional Cross in her brooding.

The mission now complete, the two were just on their way back towards the small Church near a creak to report to Griselda when a messenger dove intervened on their return path with a letter signed by the pope.

This led to the current situation.

Chewing quickly through the stale bread, she swallowed the piece down her mouth.

It was a bitter taste.

But this was the only food she and Irina had left after running low on money and using all that was left to procure a meager amount of food. It was also because of their low funds that the two were forced to sleep outdoors. In which case, she could no longer hold herself back from clenching the small stone carving of a saint in her hands.

"Be careful with that Xenovia, it's a statue of Saint Joseph said to have been carved hundred of years ago! Just look at the damaged parts around it, this carving must have been ancient," Irina reasoned with a frantic look on her face as she put down her bread and made her way over to placate.

However, Irina's words were only making the strength of Xenovia grip to increase.

"This was worth _half_ of our money?" Xenovia's tone was clipped, her appearance as if she had swallowed a lemon. Inspecting the small statue in her hand, Xenovia's countenance continually dimmed. "You can barely even see a face on this thing, let alone the clothes."

"Deterioration over time," Irina finally snapped, grabbing the statue of St. Joseph in Xenovia's hands and cradling it near her bosom. "This is an antique with character," she spoke clearly.

Xenovia pinched the bridge of her nose before pointing with a stiff finger. "And _those_?" She inquired.

Irina was smart enough to stay quiet and slink away to sit protectively in front of the other various items she had procured on the mission to Italy.

Lip twitching, Xenovia calmed herself down by holding Durandal X close. It gave a comforting feeling to her, and it was enough just knowing who she had gotten the sword from.

Yet suddenly at that moment, she felt something strike like thunder inside her as she looked towards the distant East, her hood falling down her face.

Her mouth opened into a large O, her reasoning and rationality suddenly obscured.

"Is there something wrong?" Irina asked as she quickly gathered her things in a bag and place it protectively in front of her.

Xenovia knit her brows, a thumb coming to rest just on top of her lower lip.

"No," she answered, her eyes glancing again towards the distance uncertainly as she pushed herself onto her feet and brushed the dirt off of her clothes. "I just had a strange feeling that we should have had informed mother before taking this mission," she diverted.

Irina was just about to reason that the objective was issued by a leading figure in the Vatican, but Xenovia continued, cutting her off.

"That and…I'm not really sure actually." A strange expression appeared on Xenovia's face, but she then shook her head, her expression returning neutral. "Let's just pick up the pace from here, we have to get to Japan and end this mission already."

Saying that, Xeonvia didn't give Irina enough time to respond and just left in a hurry, her stale bread left behind.

Irina sighed helplessly as she watched Xenovia trudge on without her again before she herself got off from the ground, put out the fire, and then followed. Irina could only smile wryly.

Xenovia had only ever exhibited such behaviour when presented with food, battle, or her self-proclaimed future husband, Shirou; granted it had been a while since Xenovia had seen him.

Looking at the stiffness of Xenovia's gait, and the absentmindedness of her actions as she walked; she butting shoulders with other passerby's in the city, Irina could only uncertainly come up with a single reason while she herself thought about the childhood friend she had left behind.

A woman's intuition perhaps?

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 **Next Update: Vasto of White**


	10. Shirou Emiya: Part 1

He stood there momentarily, confused with an expression of befuddlement on his face. The necklace around his neck was quiet and had dimmed considerably in the passing moments, but such things were irrelevant when faced with the matter at hand.

"Ayakoji?" He said in bewilderment.

The man who had taken him from the airport and escorted him into his current lodgings was standing before him wearing faded blue pants and a tight form fitting black long-sleeve. A chain dangled from his pocket and was attached to some compartment on his back. On his wrist was a silver bracelet adorned with small trinkets that clattered with the man's movements.

Ajakoji did not look happy. In fact, despite only being able to see his eyes and lower face from the fedora Ayakoji wore on his head, he could tell that the man was far from just unhappy.

It was completely different to the way Ayakoji had acted with him during the ride, and briefing at the lodging. This was a cold and reserved operative, one who he had no doubts had killed before. It was reminiscent to that feeling he had when he first realized at the airport that there was more to Ayakoji than what met the eye.

No friend of a woman like Griselda would be normal. Especially one she had unintentionally admitted to have trouble with.

"I thought you said you wouldn't be able to help without risking the start of another war after leaving?" He said.

Ayakoji grunted before saying, "And you'd do a far better job than I ever would have."

He was startled for a moment, but Ayakoji didn't explain. Instead, he tilted the fedora on his head, and from his slouched posture, a sigh could be heard.

"Do you not recall what I had told you before you started this mission here? It's called tact and subtlety, not _hasty_ , _thoughtless_ , and _negligent_ ," Ayakoji berated.

He didn't flinch or even react much under Ajakoji's admonishments. Sure, he could understand what Ayakoji was getting at, and perhaps he felt more than a tad guilty, but he believed that there was nothing wrong in what he had done either.

Perhaps noticing this, a twitch appeared on the top of Ayakoji's lip, becoming increasingly glaring in contrast to the cool aura the man released. Finally, Ayakoji seemed to snap.

"I should've had known something was up when Griselda came back to ask a favour of me. I even should've realized it sooner when she warned me to take extra consideration." Ayakoji crossed his arms before straightening his back. "Listen here ya brat, do you know what you've just done?"

No, no he did not. All that he knew was that he saved those needing to be saved.

"Right there, in that room in the Church's basement, was Rias Gremory, an Heiress to a family of one of the Seventy-Two Pillars of Hell." Ayaokoji's eyes narrowed as he looked back at the distant church.

The two's current surroundings were in a location nearby to the local park in the neighborhood. As it was already late, and the sun had gone down, there were barely any other people close to them either. Shadows stretched from the dim lighting of the park's lamp posts, a calm wind blowing up clumps of fallen leaves.

"More than just an Heiress to the Gremory Family, she is the little sister of the current Lucifer, one of the Four Leading Devils in the Underworld," Ayakoji continued before he then went to explain the ruling system in Hell.

The Four Great Satans, the four original rulers of the Underworld during the Great War between Factions. They were named Lucifer, Beelzebub, Leviathan, and Asmodeus, and together they had spear headed the ambition of world domination. Fortunately, they were killed in the ensuing battles of Heaven's and the Fallen's armies, and the might of God himself.

Nowadays, only remnants of the original blood-line of these Four Great Satans remain, all wishing to accomplish the ambitions of their ancestors, gathering their forefather's past supporters. And yet not all Devils wished to continue the war, leading the emergence of what was called,

"The Anti-Satan Faction, the faction headed by another group of Devils to ensure the survival of the Devils as a species. From there, a Civil War began which ultimately lead to the leaders of the Anti-Satan Faction gaining power and taking over the positions of the Four Great Satans. Rias's brother, Sirzech's Lucifer, being one, or if not thee most feared. His name alone is enough for his enemies to place the highest of considerations before plotting against him," Ayakoji said, uncrossing his arms and taking the fedora off of his head before revealing a strained smile.

It was clear for him to see that this smile on Ayakoji's face was far from being able to convey the gravity of the situation. He wisely kept silent.

"It's a well-known fact that Sirzech is extremely protective of his younger sister, and not only did you not just meet her, you inadvertently _threatened_ her."

O boy.

He knew exactly what Ayakoji was referring too, and at this moment, he glanced down at the necklace hanging off of his neck. It was all this things fault. If it wasn't releasing that wave of energy from it, would this situation have had even occurred?

 _"Was it not your own doing?"_

The necklace around his neck twitched before laying still, the voice it had used to speak incredibly weak.

He could understand the necklace's point though. If he didn't wish to help those Fallen Angels, then the situation would never have had happened.

It was just another favour he would have to add to his growing list of debts. First it was the items in the Sword Trials, and now it was getting bailed out from making a grievous error. Knowing himself as he did, he probably wouldn't have had truly asked questions at that moment and would have had prioritized saving the Fallen before considering anything else.

Yet Ayakoji had immediately intervened. It was just fortunate that the last Fallen was able to get away in the wake of his actions.

It was after thinking for a second that something clicked in his mind.

When Ayakoji had first mentioned Griselda speaking about extra consideration moments ago, it wasn't very clear about what sort of consideration Griselda had in mind. Now though, he could understand that it had been a warning to Ayakoji.

Speaking of Ayakoji, now that he thought about it, it would seem that the man had actually been monitoring him; testing him if he considered it further. And now, looking at the results, the hapless expression on Ayakoji's face, he knew he had failed.

Ayakoji grimaced before walking forward, motioning for him to follow.

It was the correct choice, they couldn't stay any longer or risk getting found.

With Ayakoji leading, he followed the man silently back in the direction of the safe house, his mind trying to decipher who Ayakoji truly was. One moment he was easy to get along with, fun even. And in the next, he could become so professional and calculative. Looking at him now after the man had the time to calm down, Ayakoji was back to that carefree individual.

Hell, Ayakoji had even started asking him about Griselda again and debating aloud about whether or not she had 'grown' since the last time Ayakoji had seen her.

This was probably one of the many reasons Griselda seemed to cringe even when she just mentioned the man. He couldn't fault her. Ayakoji could be vulgur.

Looking back and forth, Ayakoji seemed to scan to scan the surroundings for any traces of being followed.

He followed Ayakoji's example, and quickly verified that there really was no one following. Only the being in the necklace would know that Rias and her peerage would not dare come after what he had exhibited in the Church. Light, and Holy, were the greatest weaknesses of Devils, and what he had unknowingly released at the time, was the aura of light itself.

With the path clear, he and Ayakoji soon reached the safe house, entering quietly into the dark room.

Fumbling in the dark, Ayakoji soon flipped a switch, and the room illuminated; the old couple who had been managing the place in the morning were no where in sight.

"They can't help it. Age can get the best of anyone," Ayakoji answered, seeming to know what he was thinking of after his observations.

He agreed with Ayakoji's statement and then made his way to the bathroom. After taking a quick shower, he returned to the living space to see that Ayakoji was making himself at home, propping his feet up on a center table in front of the couches before flipping on the television and sighing in content.

It would seem that Ayakoji had no intentions of leaving, proving that he was legitimately going to stay with him. The man had once mentioned being in charge of a Church branch in the area, but now here Ayakoji was relaxing instead. Didn't Ayakoji say that he would return unless he wanted to embarrass the members under him?

He paused as he thought up to that point.

On second though, Ayakoji probably would.

He snorted, moving to the room provided to him with the intention of sleeping. He would have to get up early to attend his first day in Kuoh Academy tomorrow.

However, as he was going to his room, Ayakoji's hand somehow fell on his shoulder. His brows rose. Ayakoji had been sitting in the living room a good twenty feet away from him, yet the man had somehow reached him in an instant? Bewildered, he kept silent as Ayakoji's voice entered his ears.

"Isn't it too early to go to bed?" Ayakoji asked, maneuvering him back to the living space. There was a narrow hall separating the two areas, and a door that clicked shut when they walked through.

He quickly explained his intentions of sleeping to Ayakoji, and that he was planning on heading to Kuoh Academy tomorrow. His registration had already been finalized and for some reason he didn't want the new records created for him to be tarnished with tardiness or absence.

Yet Ayakoji quickly shot him down.

"Oh, you won't be attending for a while. Not anymore," Ayakoji said. "You forfeited that right the moment you walked into that abandoned Church and blew your cover."

Point taken, he thought, feeling dumb for a moment.

"Then what about the mission with the Holy Maiden?" He ended up asking.

"She's dead now," Ayakoji dismissed. "In fact, when I first laid eyes on her, it was clear to me that she was losing her vitals, but like yourself, I wasn't clear on the reasons."

His brows furrowed in displeasure. "Then you should have just left me to help her," he argued.

Ayakoji seemed to draw amusement from his displeasure, a grin forming. "And this is why I hate dealing with kids. They don't look at the bigger picture," Ayakoji said, raising a finger to his temples. "Think. I'm sure Griselda must have had explained the concept of a Devil's peerage to you? Now, if you were the Gremory Heiress, and a user of a healing type Sacred Gear just appeared before you, what would you do? I'm afraid that the answer is fairly simple even excluding the type of character Rias may have. Only a fool would pass up that kind of opportunity. And only an even bigger fool would threaten the little sister of one of the Four Great Satans, and _still_ feel regretful that he wasn't able to interfere in the little sister's recruitment of peerage. Ungrateful runt that guy is I tell you. He should profess his undying servitude to his saviour."

Ayakoji appeared quite smug.

He in contrast, although understanding Ayakoji's points, was just about ready to follow through on a very brutal favour Griselda had asked of him regarding Ayakoji. The man shouldn't appear so condescending when explaining another's faults. Just as he was going to act, at the last moment he controlled his urges, and attempted to walk away.

Though reluctant on his part, Ayakoji had acted in his best interests.

Still, why was Ayakoji staring at him so intently?

"Is there anything that you need then?" He asked, feeling Ayakoji's gaze.

"Not particularly at the moment, but there are a few crucial things I wanted to discuss, but fuck it," Ayakoji said before pulling out something from a bag not too far off.

Seeing what it was, his face immediately coloured from the explicit text and imagery on the cover alone. This was far out of his depth, something he had never done before.

Ayakoji smiled knowingly; seeming to detect his inexperience, the man quickly placed an arm over his shoulder.

A vice that would not let go.

"There are _far_ more important matters that we can debate over as men. Trust me, you'll love the expression on Griselda's face when she learns of this."

It clicked, like the final piece of a puzzle that should have been easy to solve.

Griselda would not be happy.

And thinking about what Xenovia would do if she found out, the pit in his stomach only grew further.

This- This was punishment.

 _Payback_ for the night's ordeal.

Immediately he pushed against Ayakoji's grip, but by then, it was already too late; the door was locked and a sultry moaning echoed out across the room causing an embarrassed flush to come to his face.

Even worse, he finally noticed the camera in Ayakoji's hands.

This bastard.

BREAK

He was exhausted in the following mornings.

Ayakoji just didn't let up.

On top of placing him on house arrest for the first three days to avoid possible detection, Ayakoji had shown him a new video every day as if a teacher to a student. He was mortified, and more than once he considered just breaking the house down to escape, but all thoughts of such a thing escaped his mind when he realized that the house was not only managed by the caretakers, but it was actually the old couple's home too.

Eventually, he found out something about Ayakoji.

As it would turn out, Ayakoji worked as a video editor and graphics modifier as a side job from managing his position at the branch Church.

He learned Ayakoji's true forte in the art in the following nights when a super imposed image of a younger Griselda's face made an appearance in one of the videos along with Ayakoji's.

It, it was surreal, and at the same time, horrifying as he realized that Ayakoji had made sure to capture his every reaction.

When the third day finally came and he was free to leave the safe house, he bolted out of the place, a ludicrous expression on his face as if he had just seen an oasis in a desert.

Ayakoji.

That man was formidable.

Only now he could _truly_ understand all the hate Griselda had as a woman.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he made a vow to spend as little time in that house as possible. Because of this, in the following days, he had taken to following the various supernatural signatures he was able to detect; finding what Ayakoji and Griselda had explained to be Stray Devils

Devils from a peerage that had left their masters.

He didn't have much prejudice against them for that, but what caused him to begin hunting them down mercilessly was their tendency to attack humans.

He knew that Ayakoji had told him to stay low profile, but he couldn't dismiss such behaviour from the Strays.

It was on one such hunt that he was currently on now.

Swiftly he moved in the shadows of an urban complex that had undergone little to no maintenance. Walls were cracked on the buildings, revealing open sections of the steel frame beneath, and the glass framing the windows were blurred grey by piling dust.

The neighborhood was probably abandoned while the business men moved their sights to other prospects. Even still, there were people who lived here.

It was for that reason alone that he would act.

Crouching on the ground, his nose twitched before his head turned towards a direction past one of the back alleys.

A sword appeared in his hands, long jagged, and a bright red jewel adorned on its hilt, the sword gleamed in the moonlight.

"A human?" A voice spoke from the dark of the alley, venomous, and conceited.

His guard fell to his side, a twitch forming on his brow as the Stray Devil appeared.

It was always the same for one reason or the other.

"Frightened now, are we?" The voice came from a narrow-eyed woman, her lower body that of a spider's. "Well I'm afraid your bravado will cost you."

The Stray Devil's arms began moving to her bust, twin peaks that began to bulge with a buildup of magical power concentrated at the center.

Enough.

 _He had enough_.

A sword pierced through the Stray's chest, ending the entire ordeal with the sound of a surprised gurgle. It was like ever since Ayakoji had revealed to him the world of men, every fight he'd encountered so far with the Stray Devils had been a joke. Even now, suspected that this had all been orchestrated by Ayakoji in the shadows. Otherwise, how could he possibly believe in running into these kinds of Stray Devils every single time?

Flicking his sword and clearing it of the blood, he soon dismissed it before deciding to call it a night. After all, he didn't have long before Rias, or another Devil with black hair, glasses, and a peerage of her own would show up. They always did in pursuit of the Strays.

It was just too bad they didn't have his unique magic sensing skills to arrive before him.

Making sure that the Stray was tided up enough to not inconvenience whoever would come to pick up the mess, he then left with a strong gait as the scent of a frigid glacial cold wafted into his nose.

Black haired and spectacled would be coming today, he concluded just as he disappeared into the night.

Other than Rias and her peerage, the black haired and spectacled girl had been the only one to try and convey a message to him instead of looking around in hopes of finding him; rather smart really.

It had been a drawing of a knight's chess piece left in clear view for him to see.

In Devil Society, every High-Class devil was in possession of what was known as a peerage: The followers of a High-Class Devil who have become Devils themselves through the use of the Evil Pieces invented by Ajuka Beelzebub of the Four Great Satans.

Evil Pieces were identical to the appearance of Chess Pieces, and each piece had its own role when reincarnating a being that was recently deceased or has agreed to become a Devil. In which case, the Evil pieces were still divided into the classes of Pawn, Rook, Bishop, Knight, and Queen, with the King piece always remaining in the hands of the High-Class Devil in control of the peerage in the past. Presently though, the King pieces were banned due to some unforeseen circumstances, and only a few were left in Devil Society.

In any case, he was clear about what she was asking just by the piece alone.

Evidently, she had been impressed with his skill enough to want to ask him to join peerage. Flattered as he was though, he still hadn't given her answer. After all, although it was a tad embarrassing to admit, he just didn't have enough time to write anything before she arrived.

It was the same tonight as he had left without writing a reply. However, he resolved to eventually get this settled out, but until then, his priorities shifted to avoiding Ayakoji for the night.

Walking back to the safe house, he crept up to one of the windows on the main floor and opened it just enough to sneak into the kitchen.

The sound of the television was on, the static clear to hear even from where he stood. Ayakoji was probably in the living room right now, making it the main place to avoid. Yet for some reason, he paused as he was just about to leave, noticing Ayakoji release a white dove out the window.

Perplexed, he stood rooted long enough to hear the sound of the door bell echoing from the hall adjacent to him.

As Ayakoji went to move towards the door, he ducked for cover, positioning himself crouched by the center isle facing the glass cabinets in the kitchen.

For some reason, something just seemed off about tonight, like a premonition of sorts triggered by Ayakoji's action of sending the dove off. If he could recall, doves were a symbol of great status in the Church as a Holy bird. The fact that Ayakoji had received and sent one off here, something must have had happened.

Just as he was pondering more on the subject,

BANG

The front door burst open, hanging off of its hinges.

At that moment, all he could see from the reflection of the glass cabinets was a smooth and slender outstretched leg covered with a black silk stocking reaching to a black combat boot.

As the leg descended to lay gently on the ground besides its matching counterpart, and the sound of frantic admonishment began to echo in the air, his mind blanked.

Blue hair the colour of sapphires and tinged with the refinements of emerald. A face that was impassive and cold, yet possessed a pair of eyes that was more expressive than most.

It was Xenovia.

She had grown a bit from when he had last seen her, her cloak no longer dragging against the ground as she walked. Even then, that familiar standoffish aura she exuded was in full display; unique only to her.

And as her mouth moved, and words escaped her lips, a feeling of nostalgia surfaced from within him after the time spent apart from her.

Yet that nostalgia shattered at the next moment when he registered what Xenovia had just asked of Ayakoji.

Strong.

Loud.

And Clearly without a change in her expression.

She had said:

"Where's my wife?"

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	11. Shirou Emiya: Part 2

Ayakoji burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the calm of the night.

Xenovia was not amused.

Whereas he decided it would have been best if he hadn't returned back so early. Perhaps he should have stayed behind and risked leaving a message for that particular Devil? But in any case, he was already here. And though slightly aggrieved at Xenovia behaviour, admittedly, he'd missed that part about her too. It was a sentimentality of sorts born from the fact that she had been one of the closest people he had gotten to know ever since becoming stranded in a foreign place.

Still, as Ayakoji continued to laugh, and Xenovia's face only continued to darken, he could faintly hear the sound of admonishment coming from down the hall. His brows rose having heard this, and it wasn't just because he agreed with what was said, but the voice was familiar.

"How could you just kick open the door? God and the Angels spoke of patience and calm, not brashness and barbarism. And what do you mean 'Wife,' you should be the wife as a woman of devote from the Church," Irina marched up beside Xenovia looking exasperated.

On Irina's back was a sack filled with items of some sort with the most conspicuous being a giant painting that towered above her.

Just one look from Xenovia as she glanced back at Irina caused Xenovia to exude an air of annoyance enough so that she disregarded Ayakoji.

This was his chance.

As he noticed Xenovia still staring hard at Irina, he darted towards the living room, crouching behind the couches and slowly making his way over to the nearest window to escape. Yet at that moment, he paused in his actions and reconsidered. Why exactly was Xenovia and Irina here?

If he recalled from the time Xenovia made him cook up a feast of food supplies, they had gone to the Vatican for their assignment. Yet, somehow, they had ended up here.

Suddenly, the Dove Ayakoji had released came to his mind.

It had to be related in some way. Unsure of what was going on, and unwilling to make an appearance until Ayakoji was no where in sight, he remained motionless to listen in.

Eventually, after Ayakoji had ceased his laughter an air of seriousness began to permeate, Ayakoji invited Xenovia and Irina in.

"You two came quite early," Ayakoji replied sitting down and motioning for Xenovia and Irina to do the same. They complied.

Ayakoji put on a troubled expression soon after. "Here's the thing. I literally just got word from the Vatican moments ago about this latest update, but this really won't do. If I wasn't currently here on a favour from Griselda then you two definitely wouldn't be enough for this task on your own. Even then, I just don't understand what those clergymen are thinking up there."

Listening in from the side, his brows creased as he inferred the situation. Xenovia and Irina had gotten assigned a task way out of their hands?

This was no longer something he could sit out from, and besides, Ayakoji was being serious on the matter. He could tell from the man's tone of voice.

As he stood up from his position, he realized with the sound of rustling cloth that he wasn't the only one who had stood up. Xenovia had too.

Her eyes were on him, and he could tell that even she did not know it when her body moved to stand in front of his. She appeared to be hesitating, her eyes shifting downward as she opened and closed her palms, her shoulders pointed inward.

That indecision of hers was one of the things that allowed her the cool and uncaring disposition she naturally exuded. It allowed her to think and consider before her actions, yet she always ended up choosing the more forceful of methods like preferring strength over technique.

Yet this time, she didn't seem to be able to come to any decision at all.

At this moment, it was Irina who was motioning knowingly at him with her eyes that gave away what Xenovia wanted. Still, it took him a moment to understand, and when he did, he pulled Xenovia in for a hug before pulling back. She had stiffened at first, but upon contact, it was like a damn had fallen and strength rushed into her arms as she had returned the gesture.

"It's been a while," he spoke, staring at the sudden radiance that appeared on Xenovia's face.

"Yeah," Xenovia spoke softly, staring up at him quietly before crossing her arms.

She then began to account what she and Irina had been through. As she talked, she had been absently playing with her hair, long strands being twisted around a finger.

"So, anything else?" He asked when she finally finished.

Xenovia grunted. "I want food," she said, and for a second it almost sounded pleading despite the calm tone of her voice.

A cough sounded in the room.

"Although we were talking about important matters here, perhaps we can continue this conversation after a meal?" Ayakoji said.

Xenovia immediately agreed, her impression of Ayakoji increasing.

Irina agreed too.

As Xenovia and Irina turned to stare at him expectantly, his mouth twitched when an apron was suddenly thrown over his face.

"Risotto would be nice," Ayakoji's voice held mirth in it. "Oh, and maybe something on the side too if you don't want me to reveal a little 'something' tonight."

Pulling the apron down from over his face, the first thing that entered his view were the questioning gazes of Xenovia and Irina. Horror began to well up from within him when he realized what' something' Ayakoji must have been talking about.

"Right away," he said, acting as if he didn't notice the two-girl's curiosity.

Grumbling under his breath, he soon got dinner preparations started, and within moments, a meal was set before the table. A thin layer of oil gleamed across the surface, making it appear far grander than what the simple dish represented to Xenovia: hot food. It was Italian too, reminding her of home.

As she took a bite, she, like Irina, seemed to forego any curiosity they may have had with what Ayakoji had said.

Good.

It was best to move away from the matter. While thinking along this line, his attention soon fell onto the pack of belongings Irina had brought along with her, his lip twitching as he did so. However, he didn't comment on the matter and instead waited patiently for the two to eat their meal.

As soon as a plate was cleaned from in front of her, Xenovia would then raise an empty bowl for further servings. Unexpectedly though, Irina was far faster than Xenovia with the rate she was eating at. Yet how would he know that it was because she was somewhat jealous of Xenovia being able to eat this kind of food more often?

As for Ayakoji, the man just ate with an amused expression.

He himself ate quietly.

When everyone finished eating, he shook his head before discreetly passing a napkin to Xenovia under the table. Remnants of food were stuck on her mouth, and she had yet to notice them in her content.

She had stared at him oddly at first, but she then quickly realized his intentions. Nothing changed on her face, but a small heat concentrated at the ends of her cheeks making them flush red.

Irina seemed to find entertainment in Xenovia's actions, placing her hands on her lap while leaning back on her chair.

"Moving on then," Ayakoji spoke when the table was cleared. "Let's discuss what we're going to do now, but first it's best if everyone knew of the circumstances."

Saying that, Ayakoji began to recount the events.

Xenovia and Irina had been tasked by members of the Vatican to retrieve the stolen fragments of Excalibur despite their abilities not meeting the requirements.

Just this point alone was enough to infuriate him, but he could hazard a guess as to why they were sent. A mixture of curiosity and over estimation. His eyes glanced down at the two sheathed swords covered in a thin white cloth currently propped up by Xenovia's side.

The two swords of Durandal. Even the power of just one was stifling. With their combined presence, not only did the power resonate, it caused one's body to tremble under the might of their grandeur. It was only natural that the clergy would believe that Xenovia and Irina were up to the task. It would have been the same if they wielded their own fragments of Excalibur; a holy sword and banner to rally, a call to arms.

Speaking of which, the stolen fragments of Excalibur had jogged his memory.

 _"The true purpose of your presence there is to verify something else, and by then, you should understand everything on your own."_

The words Griselda had spoken came to mind. Did Griselda already have her suspicions before even sending him here? Knowing her, and why she'd ask a favour from Ayakoji, she probably did.

The fused pieces of Excalibur he had stored within his room unexpectedly arrived beside him at that moment, glowing with fiery gold reminiscent of budding wheat. It demanded his attention; falling into his grasp before pointing him in a particular direction, a faint tugging force pulling at his hand.

"This?" Ayakoji was perplexed, but Xenovia and Irina were able to maintain their calm for the most part.

After all, they were there to witness the scene of the Excalibur fragments merging so they were somewhat prepared for it. In any case, Ayakoji was not. On top of Griselda neglecting to tell such information, she had even stopped replying to any inquires after a certain incident on Ayakoji's part. Therefore, it was only now that Ayakoji seemed to understand something.

"You're a Holy Sword user, and wielder of Excalibur," Ayakoji stated.

He nodded as Ayakoji wasn't wrong. It was just that he could create Demonic or Neutral aligned swords too. Yet the only ones who knew of such a thing were probably the examinees of the Holy Sword Trials who had seen him in action themselves.

Ayakoji placed a hand under his chin, a brooding expression on his face before the man grunted.

"Considering that the fragments of Excalibur are all connected, that sword of yours is probably resonating with the other pieces. This will probably make it far more convenient to search for those missing fragments," Ayakoji muttered before frowning. "The problem is, our ability to move freely in a Devil's territory as important as this one. Especially after what you did."

Noticing the confusion in Xenovia's and Irina's faces, Ayakoji began to explain what had happened in that particular night in the abandoned Church.

Subsequently, Irina looked at him in horror while admiration swelled from within Xenovia's actions as she patted his shoulder. From the very beginning Xenovia had always favoured the direct approach towards most problems because of her own personality. And now that she knew he'd adopted a similar approach while having chided her before, he could see in her behaviour that she was looking at him in a new light.

He didn't want to be viewed in such a way though.

However, he couldn't rebuke her as none knew better than himself that his common sense fell down the drain when faced with saving or helping others. Thinking about it now, if Rin hadn't stopped him that one time in the mansion, he would have had straight up attempted to attack Gilgamesh without any prior preparation at all.

As such, he could do nothing as his lip twitched in exasperation.

He looked at Ayakoji and hurriedly spoke to change the matter.

"Then what do you suppose we should do?" He asked.

Ayakoji shrugged. "If nothing else, everything can work out if we can just get permission from the Devils to work in their territory. However, I won't be of much help in that regard as my reputation is not the best amongst Devils let alone to haggle with e'm."

He rose a brow hearing Ayakoji's explanation but didn't think too much into it.

"Then how should we go about doing that?" Irina asked. By now she was already feeling nervous after what Ayakoji had just revealed about the events in the abandoned Church and her anxiety was evident. Still, the girl didn't lose her optimism as even though she was nervous, she was far from giving up.

"Simple. All you have to do is follow me," Xenovia spoke with confidence. "We'll walk directly in there tomorrow, and they'll agree for sure." Saying that, Xenovia gently placed a hand over her two swords.

This was an action he did not miss, and a bad premonition took root in his mind. Nevertheless, he eventually agreed on this course of action as gaining permission from the owner of the territory was the most efficient.

At dawn of the next day, he'd realize that that premonition was far from wrong.

BREAK

Kuoh Academy had previously been an All Girl's school, and it was just recently that it had become co-ed. As such, the population of male to female was increasingly skewed. In any case, Kuoh Academy had the appearance of most Romanesque buildings. Large arches that stretched beneath designs of carved stone that was plastered over a steel frame, appeared elegant in the morning sun. Clear windows were spaced evenly alongside the walls, illuminating the hallways and conserving the need for light during studies.

It was a school that looked more like something suited for the rich than the common populace. In fact, he should have been admiring the sight if not for his situation.

The day had just started and already he could feel a headache.

"Shirou, why are you so far away?" Xenovia called back to him a distance ahead where she was walking beside Irina.

 _Why did you not consider changing those clothes?_

For a moment, this thought lingered in his mind, but he knew that he wasn't charismatic enough to dissuade Xenovia from wearing her 'battle wear' in Devil's territory. Speaking of which, it was the same attire they had worn during the Holy Sword Trials, except this time, only he knew what they wore beneath. Instead of the thick and warm clothing they had worn underneath the white cloak previously to survive environmental conditions, they instead wore a new and questionable battle standard.

Although important, that wasn't what troubled him though. It was just the attention that the two were drawing by walking into Kuoh Academy wearing their white cloaks.

Because of all this attention, he was currently lagging further and further behind his two companions.

From where he stood, he could hear the gossip from the other students slowly walking into Kuoh Academy's gates in the early morning and hearing this, he breathed a sigh of relief.

It had been for the best that he had refused adamantly when Xenovia had presented him with the very cloak he wore in the trials lest he be involved in the quiet murmurs. At least they were all directed at Xenovia and Irina instead, yet for some reason he couldn't comprehend, he felt a gaze on his back.

Turning around, it was to see the sight of a teacher staring down at him with a glaring frown. Moments later, said teacher walked up to him.

"You are in big trouble young man," the teacher spoke pushing up the spectacles on her face.

Stunned at the suddenness of the event, he stood frozen for a moment as the teacher spoke once more.

"Not only did you not show up to the opening ceremony, but you have been absent for the past week. Don't you know that the last years before graduation are the most important steps into your education?" The teacher continued heatedly. "We have a lot to get sorted out with you."

Finishing, the teacher grabbed his arm and began tugging him towards the direction of Kuoh Academy's teacher's office.

A confused expression crossed across his face. How had the teacher even been able to recognize him?

What he didn't know at the moment was that the teacher in front of him was the teacher for the homeroom he was registered under.

In Kuoh Academy, the student application papers not only had basic information on one's profile, but it included a small photo of the student. This photo was something Griselda had included in the application, and the teacher in front of him right now was privy to it. This was why the teacher had recognized him as soon as he was spotted.

Feeling awkward as the teacher was reprimanding him for his own good, he quickly motioned with his free hand to Xenovia and Irina who were about to make their way back to him. With a discreet shake of his head, he signalled for the two to go on without him.

This teacher was a good teacher who took her job seriously. He didn't want to make trouble for her who was only looking out for a student's own future.

Helplessly, he reluctantly entered the teacher's offices.

Once inside, he was forced to go through an entire lecture by more than one teacher, and by the end of it, he was left off with a strict reprimand. He would be on cleaning duty for an entire three months to build a sense of 'character' for himself, not that he would complain about that.

Still, his steps quickened when he thought of Xenovia and Irina. Had they already begun discussions with Rias and her peerage? Thinking up to this point, his mind blanked as he brought up all the memories he had of Xenovia and Irina and their respective personalities.

Irina, he wasn't worried about. As naïve as she was, she was considerate as a person; the first impressions she gave to people causing others to view her as endearing.

It was just Xenovia.

Even before he had arrived by the little Church by the creak, she was already cold and distant from others. In fact, she would have had probably grown even more distant if she hadn't met either him or Irina. Luckily this wasn't the case.

He had been there for her.

Yet that wasn't the point. That personality of hers that caused her to isolate herself from others would probably be on full display at this moment. Heck, he had even asked her about her opinion on Asia Argento the Holy Maiden. Needless to say, it was quite poor. Still, she didn't really resent the Holy Maiden to such a horrid degree, but it was just the tone of her voice and body language.

The smell of ash drifted into his nose. The particular scent Rias's Gremory exuded from her magical signature. Near that scent was the smell of lavender and river lilies. No doubt it was his two companions already discussing the situation with Rias.

He quickened his pace, his nose eventually leading him to a building detached from the school itself.

It had the same designs as the main building with trimmed bushes and trees leading a path to the entrance. The pavement was level leading up to the building, and even inside the floors were polished, the sound of his shoes echoing in the halls.

Yet that wasn't what caught his attention, no; it was the sudden surge of magical energy that occurred in the room at the end of the hall.

His pace quickened, his walk turning into a full-blown sprint. Reaching the door of the room, he kicked it open, ready to intervene should Xenovia and Irina be in danger.

Inside was what he expected.

It was a neat room with couches and furnishing no different from a living space. In fact, he couldn't help but gawk when he noticed the shower installed near the corner of it. Quickly covering it up, he surveyed the room further, his first priority to spot Xenovia and Irina.

He found them quite quickly.

Xenovia had somehow provoked discord in the room, and even now she was leveling a calm glare at the only other swordsman in the room: Kiba Yuto from the information Ayakoji had gathered concerning Rias and her peerage.

In Kiba's hands was a demonic sword, and the cause of the sudden surge of magical power.

Ignoring him for now, he realized something at that moment. Something odd on the Devil's part.

After all, when he had stepped into the room, and Rias and her peerage had registered his presence,

None of them made a sound.

Like a herd of deer caught in the headlights.

* * *

 **Thanks for Reading! Will be a small note next chapter**

 **P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious**

 **Next update: Will be decided in three days after a vote.**


	12. Excalibur 1

There was a distinct feeling of apprehension in the air, like the slightest of actions could trigger a reaction that would elicit devastation- which was odd for someone like him. After all, he was the prime target of regard.

 _Everyone_ was staring at him.

All discussion had come to an end, and even the fiery rage in Kiba's eyes had subsided to become something more subdued as Rias urgently dissuaded Kiba from doing anything reckless. It was to the point where even Akeno Himeji, the Queen of Rias's Peerage and the one least likely to avoid conflict, based on Ayakoji's intel, took action.

Things were in disarray in Rias's side, and throughout the entire ordeal, he couldn't help but want to wipe off the smugness present on Xenovia's face. She was only going to make things worse looking like that.

It was the kind of expression one would make when they were gloating of their victory. Highly irritable to those at the receiving end; especially when the person herself had not been the one to garner the reaction.

If he could equate her actions into anything, it would be that of a young child making faces at their enemies, or siblings from behind a parent's leg. In this kind of hypothetical situation, he was undoubtedly that 'parent.' A figure that remained supreme to any child or weaker power.

Just as the thought passed by his mind, it only further solidified when Xenovia made a show of standing behind his back, motioning for a troubled Irina to follow after her despite Irina's apologetic expression towards Issei.

Normally this would be considered a show of solidarity on their side, but with the context he had just thought up of, he felt more embarrassed if anything.

How childish.

By the time Rias's group reorganized themselves, he was already whispering into Xenovia's ear and asking about what had happened while reprimanding her of her actions.

She answered his questions well enough, explaining to him that she and Irina had just finished discussing with Rias about the particulars of their mission. It would only be later when he talked with Irina that he would find out that 'asked' was more like 'demanded' on Xenovia's part. Then again, the main crux of the matter was when Kiba mistakenly identified Durandal X wrapped in cloth by Xenovia's side to be a fragment of Excalibur and became agitated. It only got worse when Asia Argento tried to intervene and ended up on the receiving end of Xenovia's ire, instigating Issei Hyoudo to act.

Everything had all just become a big mess from the original intention of just asking for temporary free reign in the territory.

Now that the situation was how it was, all he could do was reprimand her in place of Griselda in hopes that she could learn more tact. However, his reprimands entered one ear, and then out the other.

He almost let out a groan when he realized this, but adamantly, he held it in. After all, it wasn't the first time he'd tried to change her opinions of things or admonish her. The first time was during and before the Holy Sword Trials, and the other was afterwards when he tried to convince her that no; he was _not_ trying to show up those stuck-up big wigs, and no; he did _not_ break ancient relics to prove some personal point.

What kind of person did she think he was?

More and more, Irina appeared to be the only sensible person he knew in this world.

And because of such a stray thought, he couldn't help but stare at Irina with praise, even going as far as patting her shoulders despite the situation.

Xenovia's gaze frosted over, the smugness on her face disappearing as her mouth closed, her lips shifting into a thin and pale line. Irina didn't seem to notice, acting a tad demure under his sudden attention. Then again, he didn't notice it either, making him just as guilty.

"Ahem," Rias cleared her throat, making a unified stance with her peerage behind her.

Her tough appearance made it seem as if she had not fallen into a clamor moments before, but her voice gave it away when she spoke.

"It's you," she said. There was an inflection in her voice that made it clear that her lip had quivered to produce such a noise.

It made him feel uncomfortable.

Xenovia grumbled to herself one last time as she gave Irina a deep look before opening her mouth to speak to Rias.

"His name isn't 'you,'" Xenovia said before crossing her arms. "He is my wi-"

Irina elbowed Xenovia just before she could finish the sentence.

Grumbling once again, Xenovia uncrossed her arms, and stood with her back straight. A strong position, one of confidence, and a will stronger than most.

"He is my h-hubby," she said, recalling the particular phrase he had heard Irina discuss with her before in the night prior.

In fact, that point had even slipped his mind until just now when it was once again brought up.

His face steeled into something impassive. He had ignored it then, and he could ignore it now, just, why did she have to appear to be so embarrassed when she said it?

Xenovia's posture was the same, and the confidence and steadfastness she was displaying was still present. However, her face had blown up, a vibrant red on the ends of her cheeks that were quickly spreading out to the rest of her blank face.

If she was that embarrassed about introducing him like that, then why bother? It would clearly save him the trouble of explaining himself every single time that he was not, in fact, married.

What he didn't know though, was that it was something Xenovia took pride in like any other girl. It was also to stake a claim to other competitors in the secret life of women. Justifiably, she wasn't raised like a normal girl, but instinct proved just as effective with Griselda's teachings about the matter on the side.

"That doesn't answer the question of his name," Akeno spoke wryly.

"My name is Shirou Emiya," he quickly introduced, lest Xenovia answer for him again. "I'm sorry if my friends were rude to any of you."

Xenovia grunted, her brows creasing before she decided to just stay at attention, a hand on one of her sword's hilts.

"Not at all," Rias spoke. However, it was evident that she was still quite guarded. "I can agree to the request of us Devils staying out of the Church's business in my territory, but you must guarantee that you don't do anything untoward."

"Naturally," he spoke. "We shouldn't trouble you much after the mission is over."

The use of 'we' in his sentence associated him with the Church, but he realized it would be far more complicated if he explained that he wasn't, but was still helping them.

"The only concern on the matter though is the unpredictability of the mastermind behind this whole incident. An Ex-Priest known as Valper Galilei," he said. It was the only part of Ayakoji's intel that made him frown. Especially when Ayakoji explained the reasoning of Valper Galilei's expulsion from the Church.

Experimentation of Holy Sword users that went over the thresholds of what could be considered as humane. Of those experimented on, not many survived, and even then, the few that did weren't treated any better than trash on the road. After all, no one really cared for them as the majority of subjects were orphans without relation to others. It was something generally done to avoid immediate repercussions. Admittedly though, the research had been helpful to the development of Holy Sword users in known methods to allow individuals to harness Holy Swords. This was primarily done through the development of light crystals, gem like objects that contained the 'light' necessary within an individual to wield a Holy Sword.

Just, too many had died for such a means to an end, and there weren't many survivors. Kiba, from Ayakoji's intel, was one of them, if not the only one.

This could explain the sheer anger in his posture and gaze whenever he heard of a Holy Sword, or the burning fury that rose from the depths after just hearing of the name Excalibur.

It was a blemish to the name of that which carries the hopes and dreams of Mankind.

However, he couldn't blame Kiba. Those who died were probably his closest friends and could even be considered his family.

"Do you need something?" He asked just as he was about to make his way out of the room with Xenovia and Irina.

Kiba was blocking their path.

Rias sighed, a troubled look on her face. She didn't have to explain though, he already knew from the way Kiba was staring fixedly at the wrapped Durandal X, and then to Xenovia about what Kiba intended.

Kiba wanted a challenge, probably even desired to destroy the perceived fragment of Excalibur.

Knowing Xenovia, she would never back down from a challenge.

Therefore, he had to settle this before a fight could even occur, but little did he know that Issei would move to back up Kiba.

In which case, Irina moved to stand beside Xenovia.

Darn it, things just became worse.

"Alright, stop," he spoke immediately. "I know what you guys are going to do, but this is pointless."

"Look."

He turned to Xenovia and motioned for her to remove the wrappings around her sword, revealing the breath-taking sword beneath. The Holy Aura around it was more than enough to make Rias and the rest of her peerage uncomfortable.

"This isn't Excalibur," he said quickly. "It's another Holy Sword."

Seeing Durandal X without the cloth, Kiba's expression lightened somewhat, but it didn't seem as if Kiba would back down any time soon.

"All the more reason to fight," Kiba said. "How can I destroy the other pieces of Excalibur if I can't destroy any other Holy Sword?"

It was a bold statement, and something Xenovia took personally as the sword to be destroyed in question was the one he had given her after the Holy Sword Trial.

Xenovia gritted her teeth before she spat out a single word in disdain. "Fool."

He could see the battle intent in Xenovia's expression, and feared that the situation would become messy. Thus, he quickly mediated, but to no end.

"If you really think that you could break this sword, then give it a try!" Xenovia said, placing Durandal X over a table with the edge facing up.

Originally, Xenovia had intended to beat some sense into her opponent, but now that the situation had come to this, he knew that she felt that his integrity had been offended and now wished to defend it.

He felt a sinking feeling in his chest as he could predict the outcome already.

Durandal the 'Peerless.'

It was a symbol of Power much like Caliburn.

Even in death, Roland himself was unable to destroy the sword, its resilience and durability impossible to overcome as a container of three miracles.

To even contest this was fool hardy, and he was certain of it as he had been the one to trace the blade into existence.

This would not end well, and he knew that Kiba would never listen to him.

As expected, Kiba immediately used his Sacred Gear: Sword Birth to create a demonic sword and lashed out at the propped Durandal X much to Rias's admonishment.

Ding!

The confidence in Kiba's eyes faltered as he stared at the chipped and haggard looking sword in his hands. Almost in denial, Kiba struck again and again, forging new demonic swords each time, but regardless, always got the same results.

With each dented, fractured, or broken sword that passed by, the more and more the feeling of helplessness in Kiba's gaze increased with his dismay. The make of Kiba's swords too were on an exponential decline, almost incomparable to the first sword Kiba had created. Sword forgery was dependant on mental state. With the way Kiba was now, it was only to be expected.

ShinK!

It was a clean cut, the sword in Kiba's hands split into two from the last swing.

"I-Impossible," Kiba fell to his knees in wild disbelief.

"It's not impossible," a voice said grimly as the speaker seemed to be inspecting the sword on the table. "The appearance is different, but its presence is almost identical to Durandal, the Peerless sword noted down in the history books maintained in the underworld."

A black-haired and spectacled woman stepped into the room, a hand moving to adjust her glasses at the bridge of her nose. She was short in stature, and appeared to match the typical stereotropism of a librarian. The calm and collected aura she displayed only furthered the point.

This woman was Sona of house Sitri of the Seventy-Two Pillars. To him though, she was the one who wanted to recruit him during his time hunting stray devils.

"H-How?" Xenovia became guarded. She had not told anyone aside from Griselda and her close associates about the true origin of Durandal X. She was smart enough to know that such could cause an uproar in the magical world.

"Simple," Sona spoke. Moving a hand towards the hand-bag she carried on her, she produced a small book radiating forth a magic circle. "A Devil's guide to Holy Swords. It's a record detailing the most dangerous of Holy Swords to Devil kind to make sure that one would understand what they were up against. Perhaps the most controversial aspect of this particular grimoire is the replication of the sword aura Holy Sword's emit. The aura of Durandal portrayed in this grimoire is identical to that which is on the table. This makes things all the more puzzling. After all, that other sword on your waist has an identical aura."

Finishing that, Sona placed the grimoire back into her bag and stared at Xenovia curiously. "Care to explain?"

Xenovia kept silent. Then again, so did he and Irina who ignored the question.

Sona shrugged, already knowing that she probably wouldn't be getting a response, but in any case, she didn't speak out just because of her curiosity; otherwise, she would have had probably devised something far more effective to get her answers.

In any case, it was already showing results.

The expression on Kiba's face began to lighten as he considered the legend involved with Holy Sword Durandal. It was a sword that simply would not break. Meaning, that Kiba's training was not in vain.

"There's still hope," Kiba whispered lowly, seeming to be thinking deeply about other matters.

However, that whisper was still audible enough to be detected by his sharp ears. He couldn't help but let out a sigh. The path Kiba was walking on was one of vengeance, and he, as an outsider, had no right to advise. Even still, he had heard multiple stories about revenge not leading to anything fruitful. He could only hope that Kiba knew what he was getting into.

"Xenovia, Irina," he called to his friends.

They understood what he was implying.

They've already completed their objective in regards to their presence in Devil territory. It was time to leave.

"Then we'll be leaving," he spoke politely.

Rias and the others didn't stop them, letting them leave in silence. In this way, only Rias and her peerage as well as Sona were left behind.

* * *

"Rias?" Sona asked, looking at the vacant expression on her friend's face as the composure Rias had seemed to vanish.

Now that Shirou was gone, the trembling of Rias's hands was now easily noticeable as her tension left her.

"I-It's nothing Sona, just, you wouldn't understand unless you were there," Rias spoke half-heartedly. "It was like standing before a searing flame so bright that any movement could reduce you to ashes, just like the scriptures of our ancestors had said about the apparition of the burning tree. It was only by a whim that the Devil who came near it at that time left with his life despite the severe burns, and I'm telling you the feeling must have been similar."

Rias brought a hand to rub her arm that had suddenly grown cold from the chill that travelled down her back.

"Shirou, he had only uttered a few words then. Nothing more than a simple question, but the power behind it was enough for us to instinctively feel that with just one twitch of a finger, are lives would be extinguished. That kind of feeling, it's hard to forget."

Sona's brows furrowed hearing the description before she thought back to her first impressions of Shirou when she first saw him.

"He didn't seem very overbearing when I got here. Even then, he didn't seem to be the type of person you described, rather, he's of a gentle sort and he even tried to avoid needless violence as much as possible. This was evident when he attempted to dissuade his comrades to avoid trouble."

"Its-" a pondering expression appeared on Rias's face. "I don't know what to think then?"

Sona tapped her foot gently against the ground as she thought. "It is said that the most powerful of enemies, are those which you don't expect. Perhaps Shirou could be one such person."

Rias could only nod her head to the explanation, but no longer lingered on the topic. Instead, she shifted to a grin as she faced Sona.

"How's your efforts on that new knight going?" Rias asked.

Sona's body stiffened, a twitch forming on her brow, but she didn't give away much else. "Slow," was all she said at first. "Though I hope if he's a man that he at least has the tact to give an answer rather than to leave a woman waiting."

Rias laughed, and the tension that was previously in the room disappeared entirely.

"You sound like some adolescent school girl waiting for the response of their high school sweet heart," Rias spoke in mirth.

"Stop, stop right there," Sona spoke as she lifted up one finger to shush her friend. "Don't try to distort the world into one of those Anime Cliché's you're so fond of. You know as well as I that I get more than enough of that with my elder sister."

A grin broke out over Rias's face, but she didn't say anything else. Sona was her friend, and although she could laugh at Sona's expense, she definitely wouldn't take it too far.

Speaking of which, Rias turned to stare at her peerage. Moments before, she had still been quite tense in Shirou's presence, and that had equated to her being even more concerned about the safety of her peerage. It was just that now that Sona had arrived, her vigilance had momentarily slipped. That being the case, she couldn't help but freeze upon noticing the guilty expression on her newest Bishop, Asia Argento's face.

"My my," Akeno spoke. "It seems we're missing quite a bit of our friends."

Rias's lip twitched as she once again reaffirmed the situation.

Kiba, Issei, and Koneko were gone.

* * *

Having gotten permission from Rias to move about in her and Sona's territory, he made his way along with Irina and Xenovia back to the complex Ayakoji had rented out.

Now that the initial step of the plan had been completed, it was now time to discuss a plan of action. However, as it was growing late, it was unanimously decided that they would continue operations on the next day.

When the sun rose above the clouds in the sky, he woke up first to prepare a meal for Xenovia, Irina, and Ayakoji. Hunger was the enemy, and if they were beginning the hunt for the stolen fragments of Excalibur, then they would need all the energy they could have.

"We'll have the element of surprise on our side," Ayakoji spoke, stuffing a piece of toast into his mouth while speaking. Chewing, the man then continued in a nonchalant manor. "With your part of the fragments of Excalibur resonating with the rest, we should be able to locate the enemy fairly easily. Still though, this doesn't mean that we should drop our guards. It's always best to be careful."

"Is that so," Xenovia shrugged her shoulders, her eyes staring at the last piece of food on the table before meeting with Irina's. "I'd prefer a more direct approach."

Saying that, Xenovia quickly struck forward towards the last morsel on the table. Of course, she wasn't the only one as Irina had done much the same to Xenovia's ire.

Bits of food splattered much to his indignation as a result of Irina and Xenovia's conflict, however, neither of them were the victors in the end.

With a quick stab of a fork, Ayakoji took advantage of the two's directness and slyly swiped the food from beneath the two's noses.

"Then your preference may need some revision," Ayakoji spoke in response to Xenovia's last statement, enraging her. However, Ayakoji raised a hand to prevent her from doing anything.

"Don't you understand?" Ayakoji asked absently. "Look down at the positioning of the plate. The both of you should be able to see that this last piece of cooked meat was nearest to me in the end. Why is that? Because that was how I'd led the both you on during the meal. I would take a portion of food here, then because of the space created in the dish, the both of you would then take pieces using my initial partaking as reference."

Irina let out a surprised 'O' as Ayakoji continued. However, Xenovia was still far from impressed, still glaring.

"From there, subtly, I've directed the eating habits of the both of you to leave the last piece facing me. Thus, making it impossible for either of you two to intervene in my taking of the last piece, but do you two understand the crux of the matter? If not, I'm sure that Shirou would understand."

He didn't have to think much about it as his father was quite skilled in that regard.

"Preparation,' was all that he said.

"Indeed," Ayakoji applauded. "There is less risk in preparation when compared to being entirely direct."

"And before you argue," Ayakoji looked at Xenovia. "The result in front of you can speak for itself, though I suppose it'll be a bit hard with that last piece of food in my stomach."

Xenovia grunted before turning her head to the side after cleaning off her plate. "So? What's the plan then?"

He looked curiously at Ayakoji and waited for the man to continue. He wasn't the best at making plans like this as most of his experience had been left to following others. He had followed Rin's plans during the Holy Grail War, and had preferred listening to others rather than arguing for most of his life.

As such, he waited for Ayakoji to elaborate.

He didn't have to wait long due to the seriousness of the matter.

"The three of you should verify the location of the target, and then promptly retreat after first familiarizing yourself with the terrain. From there, adequate preparation can be made in case anything unexpected occurs. If all goes well, this mission should be able to be completed with just the three of you assuming your only enemy is Valper Galilei and the exorcists that followed the man. If all else fails, I myself may have no choice but to intervene, and I wouldn't want to think about the consequences."

Ayakoji shrugged. "Well then, that's all, the three of you are free to go. Be careful though, Griselda would skin me alive if I let anything happen in this kind of situation where I could have had done something. Especially since her own daughter is involved."

He, Xenovia, and Irina nodded their head with a superior's respect.

It was times like these where he couldn't picture the aloof man Ayakoji was to the serious Ayakoji in front of him. Ayakoji was a man of mysteries, and the only one who would possibly have a clue on Ayakoji's origins would be Griselda herself.

As the three exited the residents, he discreetly lifted his combined fragments of Excalibur and followed the general direction of the tug. Xenovia and Irina were quick to follow beside him.

Eventually, the three reached only a single area. The site of the abandoned Church.

"It seems to be here again," he spoke, scratching his head.

This was the exact same area where he had first run into trouble with Rias Gremory, and now it was going to be the same place where he and his friends would deal with the thieves.

"Then let's look around," Xenovia spoke, standing up and striding directly towards the entrance of the abandoned Church.

"X-Xenovia, not there," Irina said while quickly scrambling after until she reached Xenovia. From there, Irina dragged her along a less conspicuous route to survey the surroundings.

He smiled wryly watching his two friend's antics, but quickly sobered when he realized that danger could be directly before him.

Releasing a breath, he moved in an opposite direction from Xenovia and Irina to cover more ground.

In this way, they finished earlier than expected and then regrouped before leaving.

The next day though, he couldn't help but feel that something was off when his combined fragments of Excalibur led him to a new location entirely.

It was warehouse situated by the river that spanned across a bridge on the way to Kuoh Academy. It appeared well maintained, and was identical to most buildings in the area: A flat grey box of a building that levelled off at a slightly steep incline at the roof. Thick shadows could be seen from the exterior, making it seem all the more eerie in the dim lighting.

"Is this correct?" Irina couldn't help but ask. She knew as well as Xenovia that this was nowhere near where they had been the previous day.

He only gave a nod in response, and like the day before, the three of them took note of the area. It was an empty sort of street. One where only a few or so people would wander to at any day. The lighting was also quite bad, some of the streetlamps emitting a light that shone too dimly.

"I prefer the Church by the creek to this place," Xenovia couldn't help but say when the three eventually met up again. "There's an open sewer drain over there, and the stench is horrible."

"At least you weren't the one who nearly fell in. A little warning next time would be nice," Irina complained.

"Just the specifics," Xenovia waved off, although it was clear that she was being apologetic in her own way.

Irina pursed her lips, but said nothing more.

That was how the second day passed.

When it came to the third and fourth, he quickly realized that there was a rotation between the two locations. At one day it would be by the abandoned Church, and in the next it would be in the warehouse. Therefore, it became clear to everyone that Valper was probably switching between hideouts.

However, by the time preparation were made, and they were ready to set out, the tugging on his combined fragments of Excalibur ceased. This caused another delay.

"It's not very surprising," Ayakoji spoke with a hand to his chin. "If your fragments are reacting, then the one's in Valper's possession could very well be as well. He's probably masked the signatures, but at least we have already ascertained Valper's position."

He frowned.

"Would he move then?" He asked.

If Valper knew that the fragments of Excalibur were reacting then it was most likely that the man would immediately change location after blocking the signature of the pieces of Excalibur.

"He couldn't possibly do that," Ayakoji said. "For starters, he would lose all defensive preparation a man like him may have had made. Furthermore, there's no guarantee that what he did to muffle the signature of the fragments of Excalibur is permanent. Fortifying himself is the best choice, but this limits our end. We don't know in which of the two location Valper would be staying at, and if you go to the wrong one, Valper may have a way of knowing so he can more readily prepare when the three of you move to the last remaining location. Such a thing would be dangerous for a man as crafty as Galilei. Therefore, it's most efficient to attack both places."

Xenovia nodded her agreement, but he was hesitant to give his approval. It was far more dangerous for them to split up their power. However, both Irina and Xenovia had already agreed, so the majority had already been decided.

As it would turn out, he would be the one to be heading to the warehouse while Xenovia and Irina took the other location.

Deciding to move out later in the day to avoid the attention of people, he gave Irina and Xenovia a questioning look when they were preparing to head out so early.

The both of them were standing at the entrance of the residents leisurely putting on their shoes while glancing up at the time. Well, Irina more than Xenovia. Xenovia was just sitting there absently after placing on her foot wear, and was simply waiting for Irina to finish up on her end. The only plus side to the entire scene was that they weren't walking with their swords out in display, and that he had hidden away their white cloaks before hand, forcing them to leave in regular clothing; not that Irina minded as she was too caught up in her own thoughts.

Eventually though, they noticed his gaze.

Irina scratched her head nervously. "Well, Issei asked me to meet up with him at the local fast food restaurant for a little help with something."

She then explained how she had run into Issei the previous day and the arrangements that they had made then. He couldn't fault her though. For almost the entirety of his time with Irina, she had always gone off about how great a friend Issei was in her youth. It would be impossible for him to imagine that she wouldn't want to catch up with Issei for the missed years.

However, what about Xenovia?

Xenovia stared blankly at him before she blurted out a few words. "Friendly relations have always been something that you said I should work on?" She tried.

He raised a brow. He knew her long enough to tell that her response was a lie. Kind of like the time she said his food wasn't good when he had angered her on a past occasion. The only proof- she'd never be able to maintain contact with his stare.

Under his gaze, she eventually sighed, her nose crinkling before she crossed her arms and glanced away from his eyes. "Irina said she'd treat me to fast food," she murmured.

Ah, of course.

He couldn't fault her for being curious though. Back at the Church by the creek, there was no fast food restaurant that anyone could go to. There, it was always food that was beneficial to one's body, especially with a mother like Griselda.

Still, he made sure to remind them not to forget about the mission tonight.

"Then take care," he bid his goodbyes, watching the two leave while bickering about some topic he wasn't privy to.

"Not going?"

A voice spoke from behind him.

Ayakoji gave him a cursory stare.

"I would," he admitted. "But I want to repay the old couple here for letting us stay for so long. If the mission ends today, this may very well be the last I spend in this place."

There was a silence behind him, so; he wasn't expecting it when he felt a pat on his shoulder, and heard a warm laugh soon after.

"Whoever has a bountiful eye will be blessed, for he shares his bread with the poor," Ayakoji said. "Not many are willing to share the burdens placed on the backs of others, but you, you seem to look out for such things more than the common person. Ever considered being a devote? You'd probably become a Saint."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't help others for recognition."

"Hmm, then all the more reason. If you ever do, do consider leaving Griselda's place and coming over to mine. We can confess our sins after doing them first." Ayakoji flashed a knowing smile before returning into the house. "God will forgive, for he is merciful."

Right, how about no?

Shaking his head, he made his way to begin his first task,

wiping clean the floors.

Time soon passed, and the majority of it was spent helping out the old couple of the residence he was staying in. They appreciated his help, but they reminded him again and again that he didn't have to. He persisted anyway.

By the time he left in the evening, the old couple was reluctantly bidding him goodbye while Ayakoji stood leaning his back against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Do consider, I've edited the next ones for max effect," Ayakoji reminded.

He gave no response back, and then went on his way.

Ayakoji watched his figure disappear into the distance before tipping the fedora he had over his head down over his eyes, and then disappearing in the direction of the shadows opposite to the house.

* * *

The old warehouse was just the same as he remembered it, but this time, he was moving towards the building rather than around it.

Small holes were created along the surface of the building in places that were inconspicuous. Within them were small dark beads that Ayakoji had tasked him with planting the last time he ha arrived at the warehouse. It was part of the preparations Ayakoji had spoken of, but he was unsure of the bead's function. All that he could gleam from the dark beads through Structural Analysis were the properties of shadows clinging around them.

But for what purpose?

He placed such thoughts aside for the time being, and decided to trust in whatever method Ayakoji had thought of as he swiftly entered the building.

Inside was a large open space that would generally be filled with machinery, or rows of product and merchandise held in storage before shipment for the various companies that ordered them. Instead of such things though, the space was empty save for a few objects he could slightly glimpse in the dark.

It didn't seem as if there was anyone around.

There was a slight creaking sound that he could hear accompanied by the steady fall of water droplets, possibly from a sink whose faucet was not closed all the way. It served to make the already eerie environment into something that felt far more ominous.

However, there was light in the dark. The fragments of Excalibur he carried on his person began to shine once again, a faint tugging sensation travelling through his arm as a quiver shook the ring around his neck.

 _He who saves those from evil, and the shepherd who ventures forth in the valley searching for lost lambs, the doves will guide your way._

His eyes had closed for a moment, but he was sure he had heard it again once he had reopened them: a voice.

 _"…_ _I-It hurts,"_

It was barely above a whisper, something that no one would have had heard even if it was spoken directly into one's ear.

 _"_ _Cold, freezing,"_

A breeze seemed to start from within the warehouse, yet he knew that it wasn't natural.

In the dark, the only thing that accompanied him in the darkness was the light that illuminated a narrow path forward.

In the entire world, only he was having such an experience; anyone else who would enter the room would not be able to see nor hear anything.

"Who?"

He couldn't help but ask aloud, his vision trying to encompass as much area as possible, but still finding nothing.

 _"_ _Y-You hear us?"_

It was the sound of children's voices, some still high pitched while others were deep and timber.

Slowly, he walked in the direction that the combined fragments of Excalibur were drawing him towards; down the narrow path illuminated by the light leading to a single spot.

Sword met ground, stabbing through and rooting itself, and from it, a small tremor was produced.

A thrum that released glowing doves that spiraled out in a circle of radiance.

 _"…_ _Ah…the cold?"_

A tremble, and a quiver.

 _When the incandescent pierces through the dark of the day, know that you are not alone._

It was as if he were standing before a tranquil pond where the slightest of movements could produce the largest of reactions.

Purity in all senses of the word.

 _Salvation is found only through hardship._

Cloudy days will pass, and eventually,

 _"_ _It's..wa..rm,"_

The sun will shine over once again.

He stared forth at his hands placed atop the hilt of the combined pieces of Excalibur, watching silently as little hands were placed atop his. Through that connection, he understood what those in front of him had been through, and what they intended to convey.

 _"_ _Thank you."_

Smiles like none other as the bodies of those little hands gradually began to fade; swirling into tiny mots of light like fairies dancing in the evening, they gathered around the necklace around his neck.

Moments later, they were gone.

It was almost as if what he had just scene and heard had never happened at all if not for the silent rattle of the necklace.

He closed his eyes, and he could still picture that scene, and hear those voices.

When he opened them again, all that remained before him was a diamond shaped crystal at the center of the crater that the combined pieces of Excalibur had made.

Structure Analysis let him determine what that crystal was. It was a Light Container, something that harnessed the energy required for one to wield a Holy Sword.

Slowly, he knelt down and picked up the jewel, clenching it tightly into his hands.

 _Valper Galilei_ , suddenly he had a whole new impression of the man.

He swallowed, placing the crystal in a secure place as he pondered to himself. The attractive force of the sword towards the crystal was natural. It was probably what had been used to mask the resonant effect of the Excalibur fragments by interfering with the properties of the Light energy. That, and the Excalibur of his memory was one that carried the hopes of mankind. The calling of those within the crystal was inevitable, for they couldn't help themselves.

A tinkling sound entered his ears, and suddenly, he seemed to come to an understanding of the weight the necklace carried.

Was this what the voice inside the necklace had meant when it had said that it wanted his help? To aid those who can't help themselves? Even if that wasn't the case, if only he alone could save them with his power, then that was more than enough of a reason.

He let out a breath.

Standing back up, he once again surveyed the surroundings.

Nothing. It was the exact same as how it was when he had first arrived.

This was probably the wrong location. If so, then that would mean that Xenovia and Irina were probably facing Valper by now.

Thoughts reaching up to that point, he was decisive in his actions. Moving towards the area he had come from, he wanted to leave and head straight for his friends. However, it was then that they appeared.

Black wings spread out in the night, obsidian feathers drifting to the ground where a group of exorcists were shown armed and waiting. Above them, and floating in the sky, were Fallen Angels.

Based on his sightings, it was clear that the Fallen Angel faction may also had a hand in this incident.

"If you give up now, this can be a quick death," one of the Fallen Angels spoke. "To think that that Ex-Preist was right to suspect that his location was already known."

"Then this was a trap," he muttered to himself as he assessed the strength of his surrounding enemies.

More than that though. If this amount of force was what was waiting for him at the warehouse, then how large would the force Xenovia and Irina be facing knowing that Valper was present there?

That answer wasn't one he wanted to think about.

In which case, he couldn't remain here any longer.

"I don't have time for this," he spoke. "Move."

His tone was urgent, but the force of it was still apparent. However, not one of the Fallen Angels or Exorcists moved. Why should they when they were being threatened by only a single individual.

Yet, this thought would soon vanish moments later.

Grudgingly, he realized that he would have to act without mercy. Every second he wasted could potentially lead to further danger on Xenovia and Irina's part.

At that moment, he seemed to possess not even a shred of power at all. For once, the necklace around his neck wasn't acting up, making him appear no better than an average human. Even the exorcists beneath the Fallen Angels released an aura of sorts generated from their use of light based weapons.

And yet nothing could be detected from him.

It was unfathomable then, to his enemies, about the pressure they were feeling.

He took a step forward, and they, one step back.

It was kind of like a natural instinct of sorts; a simple knowing that something was off and one should not approach without caution.

This feeling only intensified when the nearest Fallen Angel erupted into a shower of bloody mist and feathers that splattered against the faces of Valper's exorcists.

Chaos immediately ensued followed by a flurry of indiscernible curses and shouts. One by one, enemy after enemy seemed to erupt into nothing but hazy mists of red. Chaos turned into panic, and those gazes that had once been looking at him in ridicule had now shifted into despair and pleading, asking to be spared.

However, he couldn't stop the deaths even if he wanted to.

After all, it wasn't him who was doing it, rather, it was the sharp pair of eyes lingering in the dark that he could see from his position. Those eyes were cold, and uncaring, killing anything that appeared in sight with devastating precision; the attacks obscured in the dim lighting of the room.

As he continued to stare, that figure in the dark with the sharp pair of eyes brought a hand to a cloth-covered face before revealing a shushing gesture. However, the most shocking thing at that moment was a single realization.

He knew the man in the shadows.

Swallowing, he remembered a few particular phrases.

 _"_ _It would be far more complicated if I were to go with you."_

 _"_ _I can't help you, so the three of you will have to be on your own."_

 _"_ _Preparation can always lead to victory."_

The shushing gesture just now gave it completely away about the identity of the man in the shadows: The man that could only help by not being seen; therefore, leaving no witnesses behind to implicate the man's presence.

Just then, a single sentence escaped the man's lips.

"Go, this is not your place to be."

He quickly nodded his head, and continued on his way out. As he exited the warehouse, even from where he stood, he could hear the screaming from within.

A shiver travelled down his spine, but he refocused himself quickly knowing that Xenovia and Irina were in danger.

Reinforcing his body, he leapt up onto the rooftops where he then quickly made his way towards the abandoned Church.

It was late in the night now, at an hour near midnight where the clouds above were thick and blotted out the image of the moon.

It was almost surreal, like he was back to that desperate two-weeks in Fuyuki. But this wasn't then, it was now, yet the fighting was still similar.

Arriving on scene, it was only to see the devastation left behind by a large battle. Fissures were scattered across the ground, and some of the nearby trees had even been reduced into splinters. Trails of smoke floated up into the sky from a few places on the abandoned Church itself; revealing that even the Church was not exempt from the damage.

He didn't care about any of this though. What was most important was finding out what had happened to Xenovia and Irina.

Looking in the direction in which a path of upturned gravel lead to, he quickly followed it to the back of the Church itself. There, he saw a crater large enough to fit the entire church into and more so. However, there was still no sight of Xenovia and Irina.

Damn it.

He cursed as he tried to think of a lead, yet he wouldn't have to wait for long; the scent of magic entered his nose, his head snapping in a single direction.

Kuoh Academy.

Expression hardening, he took back to the distant roof tops, pausing as he felt a shockwave from where he stood.

It was the aura of Durandal.

Lips thinning, he ceased his movements towards the school and instead moved to the tallest building nearby.

"Trace on,"

His magic thrummed as a black bow appeared in his hands.

It would take him a matter of minutes to reach the school with reinforced strength, but seconds were precious in a fight.

When his magic entered his eyes, it was almost as if the world was zooming in rapidly until he could get a clear picture of the battle that was occurring on Kuoh Academy's grounds.

 _Careful aim was a must._

He couldn't allow his attack to injure his friends or allies, only his target alone. However, he knew that was impossible with the way the battle was being fought with swords. Xenovia and the rest were too close.

He would have to provide support then; make a commotion large enough for him to make his way there in the ensuing disarray.

A sword formed in his hand, slender, with twisting pieces of black jagged metal.

 _It seeks the blood._

 _Bathing in the crimson to reach ascension._

With a thought, that sword became slender; the jagged pieces of metal wrapping around themselves with the shaft as a base into a cone of twisted steel.

Muscles rippling, and veins bulging, he stood there, aiming from over three kilometers away.

When the grass rustles, and the wind grows still, a howl sings anew.

 _The Hound of the Red Plains._

 **"** **HRUNTING!"**

* * *

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	13. Excalibur 2

Staring up at the dark and cloudless sky above, Xenovia crossed her arms as she leaned her back against a tree near the abandoned church.

It was a full moon tonight, the glow emitted from the planet illuminating the area.

Around her was Irina, Kiba, Issei, Koneko, and Saji Genshiro, a member of Sona Sitri's peerage. Aside from the three Devils from Rias Gremory's peerage that she somehow allowed herself to work with under Irina's persistence, Saji had come to help on his own volition.

This was the night that she and Irina were supposed to attempt to apprehend Valper Galilei, but somehow, it had evolved into a whole group of them: Two with the intention of completing a mission, one with the intent of revenge, and the others who were there just to help.

Xenovia above all did not wish for this plan to fail. She didn't know if she felt this strongly about it because of her own pride, or the fact that failing may mean Shirou's disappointment.

Ever since the time in the Dimensional Cross, her feelings towards Shirou had become complex. At first, she treated him as a stranger, and then a friend that became swayed by the prospect of a good meal. It was actually quite embarrassing as she thought back to it now, but his sincerity in his actions had gotten through to her. The actions that words can not express mean more than the movement of one's mouth. She had seen his resolve and character, and a seed had been planted within her that began to sprout from the moment she realized she may have had lost him because of her own actions.

Her feelings on the matter only became more complex upon hearing the words of her mother Griselda and how direct they were. Since then, she had tried to sort through her feelings at every waking moment; seeking Shirou out to see any developments on her end. However, because of her limited time spent with others, she was awkward with beating around the bush. Therefore, she was always quite forward.

She could still remember clearly about Shirou's expression when he asked her if he wanted to have a baby.

Her hands clasped shut as a happy smile seemed to come to her face despite the situation. Direct as she was, she would act as she wished, but at the discretion of her own guidance as God wills. To let God, take the wheel as one would say.

"Xenovia?" Irina called her out.

She schooled her expression before turning to her partner.

"It's almost time," Irina said.

She nodded in response and got herself ready.

"Don't slow us down," she gave a reminder to Kiba and the rest.

Although it was just a reminder, it sounded as if she was looking down on them. In any case, she hardly noticed it as she believed herself to be acting considerate by reminding them in the first place.

Kiba just nodded his head, not making much of a fuss.

It was because of her and Irina sharing their information that Kiba and the rest could follow, so they had no room to complain.

Ten minutes later, the group gradually moved forward towards the abandoned Church. By this time, Shirou must have had moved into the warehouse already.

Just as discussed prior, Xenovia would move in first towards the abandoned Church as the vanguard followed by Issei and Koneko while Saji, Kiba, and Irina brought up the rear.

"It's quiet," Issei spoke.

Saji looked at Issei warily. "You idiot, have you never watched a movie before? That line is bound to get us in trouble."

"We'll get into more trouble if the two you don't stop speaking," Xenovia chided from the front. "If any enemies are here, our talking will give our position away."

Both Kiba and Koneko nodded to her words. Being quiet was something quite prudent in the situation that they were in.

Slowly creeping forward, they soon arrived at the Church's entrance. In which case, she carefully positioned herself to push open the door with a slight bit of effort. With the door swinging open, the inside of the Church was illuminated by dim rays of moon light which filtered in from the stained-glass windows.

The interior of the place was a familiar sight to Issei and the rest, signs of battle still apparent from the broken alter and wooden benches.

However, what immediately caught their attention was the message painted in blood on the far wall that was almost illegible.

It read, 'Die Shitty Devils and Church Dogs!"

Almost as soon as they read it, a huge number of exorcists stepped out from the dark shadows wielding their swords of light. There were so many of them that they could easily fill the room, and it was clear that the majority of them had hidden within the basement of the church.

"Told you," Saji muttered to Issei who said nothing back.

"It matters not," she spoke confidently while throwing back her white cloak.

Stretching her arms out, two portals seemed to open from which two hilts originated from. Grasping them, she pulled out Durandal and Durandal X, holding them confidently in front of her. "None will live long under my attack," she spoke coldly.

As she got into a ready stance, Issei, Irina, and the rest readied themselves.

A red gauntlet appeared over Issei's arm, the Longinus class Sacred Gear, Boosted Gear. That gauntlet alone had the ability to double the user's physical and magical power every ten seconds. This ability was known widely even without Ayakoji's information.

Koneko donned a pair of fighting gloves while Irina wielded her sword. As for Saji, he used something that appeared similar to a hand brace that was on his hand.

It was a Sacred Gear, but the information Ayakoji had given did not delve into the abilities of Sona's peerage. Thus, she was unsure about Saji's abilities. Still, at least she wouldn't be facing it at the moment.

Upon the emergence of Durandal, the pressure the two swords were emitting was palpable. The only downside was the amount of stamina she had to use to wield them both.

"C-Charge!" The exorcists yelled, pushing back their apprehension.

After all, there were so many of them that there was no chance of failure.

It was a foolish mistake.

Durandal itself was a legendary sword that had the power to cleave mountains, let alone two of them.

With two slashes, an entire eighth of the exorcist's numbers seemed to just vanish. Not only were the remaining exorcists gawking, but so were Issei and Saji. It was only Koneko and Kiba who had complex expressions, probably due to the threat they would have to face had she been an enemy.

It was expected thought. Durandal wasn't called a legendary sword for nothing.

It was when she moved out of the church to allow herself more space that Issei and everyone else seemed to come out of their stupor.

Although the exorcists lost a number of their colleagues, they didn't even seem to have any thoughts of leaving. In fact, they continued to charge forward, submerging everyone in a human wave.

"Gah," Xenovia winced as she crossed swords with three to five people consecutively.

This limited her abilities as she needed time and concentration to fire off another strong swing of her swords.

Issei and the others were madly striking out in the crowd, but were still hard pressed due to the number of them present.

Cuts and bruises gradually began appearing on everyone; a particularly large one on her leg after a misstep.

Out of everyone though, Irina and Kiba seemed to be fairing the best as they had plenty of technique in their swordsmanship.

Dodging left, and the striking right, Irina's sword seemed to dance on the battlefield, capitalizing on the opponent's openings.

Irina panted as she pulled her sword from out of an exorcist and hastily used it to block another. However, her eyes widened when she realized that the exorcist she had just stabbed had grabbed onto her sword.

She swallowed, bracing herself for the coming attack.

Blood spurted into the air in an arc.

"Be careful," Kiba spoke as his image blurred away. Evidently, he had moved to help out both Issei and Koneko as their voices soon rang out in the chaos.

"We can't stay here," Koneko spoke up from her position in the crowd.

"Yeah, there's too many of them!" Issei quickly seconded.

Frowning at the suggestion, Xenovia still ended up agreeing in the end. After all, who knows what sort of traps may have had been planted in the area. It was better to relocate the battle at a place that was more reliable. "Fine," she agreed. "But where will we go?"

"Kuoh," Koneko spoke assuredly. "The President's there so we can also get help."

"But wouldn't she still be mad?" Issei asked hesitantly while punching out at an exorcist.

Koneko gave Issei a blank gaze that spoke of her incredulousness, forcing Issei's expression to stiffen as he realized how impractical he was being.

"If we've agreed on something," Xenovia spoke slowly. "Then perhaps it would be better to send someone in advance to at least warn them. Unlike you three, Irina and I belong to a different faction so it wouldn't be proper to suddenly barge into Devil territory."

"Isn't this faction thing going a bit over board in this kind of situation?" Saji asked.

"Yeah," Irina couldn't help but admit. Still, she did agree with one thing Xenovia said in that sentence. "It's still best though to inform Rias and Sona about what's happening."

Saji nodded his head. "It's best to send the fastest first then."

Fastest? Everyone's gazes turned to Kiba.

Furrowing his brows, Kiba eventually relented after taking down a few more exorcists. "Fine, I'll be going, but Koneko, take care of Issei."

"Hey, I can take care of myself!" Issei rebutted.

Kiba ignored him as he used the opening everyone provided to escape out of the encirclement. Everyone else used the same opening to make their escape while at the same time combating the pursuing exorcists.

True to common sense, Kiba's speed was indeed faster than everyone, his figure becoming small in the distance,

"They just don't let up do they," Xenovia stated, her arms madly swinging both of her swords and releasing arcs of piercing sword light. However, she couldn't unleash her full strength in fear of harming the innocents on their way through the streets towards Kuoh Academy.

Still, with each swing, two-to-three exorcists would fall. It was the same for Irina's case, but as her Holy Sword wasn't as strong as Durandal, she could only take down one at a time in her retreat.

The surprise to both Irina and Xenovia came in the form of the petite Koneko.

It only took one punch to send a man flying back at the others, disrupting the pursuers, and often leaving up to six people dazed by her strength.

As for Issei, the poor teenage boy was being held like a sac in the wind over Koneko's shoulder as he couldn't keep up with the pace.

Eventually, Kuoh Academy's school grounds appeared in sight.

Up ahead, she and Irina were able to see Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri already standing protectively at the front of Kuoh Academy's gates and beckoning them inside. Kiba who was faster than both Irina and herself had arrived first and had probably informed Rias and Sona of their arrival.

As they approached, balls of destruction and arcs of lighting continuously bombarded the pursuing exorcists in a wide area of effect.

Thus, the exorcists that had been persistently following them at this point had dwindled down to a measly few. No more than ten. Even then, those ten were already about to give out, collapsing one by one from their injuries and exhaustion.

Picking up their pace, She and Irina arrived within the Kuoh Academy's grounds. Subsequently, Sona Sitri gave a nod to Rias and began setting up a defensive barrier around the school as a precaution to prevent mayhem should the situation get out of hand and draw in innocents.

"Then I'll leave it to you, Sona," Rias spoke.

Sona nodded her head before dragging Saji off by the ear.

Xenovia watched this interaction between the two with amusement alongside Irina as she eased her breathing. Fighting through the number of exorcists like she had just had, the exhaustion was indeed not small.

"Take it easy for now you two. It should be safe here for the time being," Rias spoke gently. Rias then turned her attention towards the remaining people who dwindled into the Kuoh Academy's ground.

"Issei, Koneko," Rias called while crossing her arms. It was clear that she was far from pleased with their actions. "Instead of talking Kiba out of this, you instigate his actions further?"

The sound of Rias's voice was incredulous, so much so that it reminded her of how Shirou admonished her actions. Was it a thing for red-heads? Both Shirou and Rias had red hair.

She knew better than to ask despite her curiosity. Besides, this wasn't the time.

Having recovered somewhat, her gaze then landed on the approaching figures in the distance. Evidently, she wasn't the only one. Everyone else was too.

The admonishment Rias was giving Issei and Koneko was put on hold as Rias and Akeno glared at the two-people approaching.

One was a man familiar to Rias and her peerage. A silver-haired priest by the name of Freed Sellzen. It was this very priest who was also involved with the incident around Asia Argento. This made Issei's eyes to shine dangerously in his anger.

The other man was short and plump, possessing a kind face that was far from the truth. This man wore the respectable garb of a Priest, yet neither she nor Irina gave any form of respect. Only contempt.

The two figures were Freed Sellzen and Valper Galilei, they had arrived following the trail of fallen exorcists that originated from the abandoned Church.

"Kuoh Academy?" Valper observed, a glint appearing in his eyes.

However, Valper did not appear to elaborate further. Instead, Valper motioned for Freed to take action.

"You wished to test Excalibur did you not?" Valper goaded.

"No need to remind me boss. I'd happily use my Excalibur to kill these shitty Devils," Freed spoke brandishing the fused pieces of Excalibur in his hands.

It felt wrong watching Freed use such a legendary holy sword. Therefore, she couldn't help but act out.

"Are you sure you wouldn't end up like the rest?" Xenovia challenged, proud of her achievement of battling all the way to Kuoh, but inwardly she was wary of Valper's gaze locked onto her Durandals.

She pressed them closer to herself to shield them from Valper's probing gaze.

"Durandal," Valper mused.

She had no doubts that Valper would be able to identify the blade. Valper himself had once been a high member of the Church and his research was focused entirely on Holy Swords. What she was truly wary of was what the man would do should he realize what Durandal X was.

"Irina," she warned her partner seeing whose direction Freed was facing.

Irina nodded, getting herself in position. Her legs were spread apart, knees bent and face set in stone.

Disregarding about what she felt about Valper staring intently at Durandal X, she focused more on the coming danger. The fused Excalibur in Freed's hands may be just as strong as the combination of Destruction and Mimic on Shirou's person. However, she had her doubts as the combination of Destruction and Mimic that Shirou possessed was sheathed in a tight scabbard bound by seals. In Freed's case, the sword was already out in display.

A combination of Excalibur Nightmare, Excalibur Rapidly, and Excalibur Transparency, it was a combination of swords far surpassing the two in Shirou's possession. However, the presence it exuded could not match that of Shirou's.

It must be weaker, she concluded.

She sucked in a breath in preparation for battle.

"Freed Sellzen, prepare yourself," she spoke while holding the hilt of her blades in a reverse grip.

Knowing that she was about to face an enemy, it wasn't in her personality to allow the opponent the initiative. Rather, she would strike first.

Her feet planted into the ground, tremors travelling up her legs as she rocketed forth.

The wind whipped past her face, the biting cold enhancing the adrenaline she was feeling.

She was Xenovia Quarta. Daughter of Griselda, and member of the small Church by the creek.

She had never known defeat amongst her peers aside from one. She would not allow for another to surmount that record. This was the pride she had in her abilities.

"HAA!"

A mighty heave, a sudden twist as she used Durandal in her hand as a spring board. Like a bladed top, she swiftly rotated herself in the air and giving the impression of a saw blade as Holy beams of sword light erupted from both Durandal and Durandal X.

Freed's eyes widened, before he quickly side stepping to get out of the way.

Gravel exploded into the air from the sword's impact against the ground.

A quick turn of her head, and her eyes met up with Freed's.

Just by comparing Holy Swords alone, she would not fall short, but rather exceed the strength of an incomplete sword.

"HUA!" She exhaled reversing her grip on her Durandal to grip it in the correct order while planting it on the ground.

Clasping her hands, she used Durandal as leverage and immediately altered her momentum. Spinning herself around Durandal's hilt, her leg arched up in a heavy strike.

"Tch," Freed shifted his weight back, but her blow was too fast and unexpected.

It clipped Freed on the bottom of the chin and sent the man tumbling.

Pressing her advantage, Xenovia continued her pursuit.

However,

She clicked her tongue as the grating of her sword against another sent tremors travelling up and down her arm. Although her muscles were feeling strained as a result, she could hardly care when faced with the task of forcibly wiping off the leer on her opponent's face.

"What's wrong?" Freed questioned with a grin. "Jealous of my Excalibur? Or just surprised I could react to your movements?"

She didn't even bother to give the exorcist a response.

He was Freed Sellzen. A talent in the Church acknowledged as a true candidate to wield the shards of Holy Sword Excalibur.

Still, she smirked.

After all, she wasn't fighting alone.

A neutral face appeared in her line of vision. Blond hair lay tussled in the wind, a sword of demonic energy stabbing forth at Freed's back.

" _You!"_ Freed barely had enough time to give a response.

Pushing back against her, Freed used the action to swing his blade at blinding speeds.

The ability of Excalibur Rapidly. A sword that grants both the wielder and the blade enhanced agility.

With it, Freed parried Kiba's attack while simultaneously parrying her own.

"What's wrong you shitty devils and devil lovers! Is that all you got?" Freed gloated.

"Irina!" Xenovia called.

"On it," Irina replied back.

"!"

Xenovia stared at Freed's face coldly as Irina appeared from out of nowhere, stabbing forth with her sword.

"You talk too much," was all that Xenovia said while she pushed Freed into Irina's sword's path.

With a squelching noise, Irina's sword stabbed through Freed's heart.

However, something was wrong. Freed was smiling.

"Fools,"

As the voice entered her ears, she saw spurts of blood appearing over Kiba's and Irina's backs. An instant later, she felt a stinging sensation on her own.

Damn it.

This was Excalibur Nightmare. It had to be. The sword that allows the wielder to cast illusions and manipulate dreams.

Then the man that they were attacking now, it was an illusion?

This was proven true when the stabbed Freed in front of them dissolved away.

Staggering on her feet, she moved to support Irina as Issei and Koneko supported Kiba.

Moments later, Freed appeared from out of thin air through the use of Excalibur Transparency. The sword that allows the blade and its wielder to become invisible.

Although she was loath to admit it, this battle was going to be difficult. It wasn't that she lacked the power to end it, but the enemy was just too versatile. If Freed had access to Excalibur Destruction and Mimicry, just how much more powerful would this mad man be?

"Weak," Freed gloated. "Hm?"

A ball of destruction followed by an arc of lightning sailed just past Freed's head at that moment.

"You missed President," Akeno Himeji admonished.

"Weren't you the same?" Rias asked irritably.

"Well no," Akeno said. "I made sure to aim for his ear, see?"

"Akeno, you, at a time like this?" Rias shook her head.

"That's precisely why," Akeno nodded before turning her attention to Kiba. "Are you alright Kiba?" She asked.

"More or less," Kiba groaned.

"How about you two?" Issei asked.

"I'll live," she muttered out while wincing.

"I'm fine, thanks Issei," Irina said. "It's just that this is going to be troublesome."

"Prepare yourself, he's coming," she spoke swiftly.

Her blade immediately locked with Freeds as she accurately predicted where the man was going to strike. Shifting her weight, she played in to her opponent's heavy swings, and twisted around her arm to position Durandal X for a piercing strike.

Between Durandal and Durandal X, Durandal X was sleeker and lighter, allowing for swifter blows. Her new fighting style was a dynamic between heavy and fast attacks to confuse her enemies and catch them off guard.

This being the case, she was confident that she could gain the advantage, and that was with the constant cover fire from Rias and Akeno limiting Freed's movements. Things became even bleaker for Freed when Kiba and Irina joined in.

"Fuck off!" Freed yelled, before turning invisible.

"Watch out!" Rias called to her peerage.

Koneko had moved to stand defensively in front of Rias while Xenovia and the rest maintained their guards.

It was due to Xenovia's training though that she sensed it.

Although Freed was invisible, she could still hear the sound of his footfalls. That and she could observe the layers of displaced material on the ground.

Judging from the direction Freed was headed and the speed he was moving at, then,

Damn it.

She pushed Irina aside and rose up her blades to meet up with Freed's descending Excalibur. However, because of Excalibur Transparency ability, she had failed to accurately read Freed's trajectory.

The blade as it was now, was primed to strike at her face instead of stab at her body.

Irina's eyes widened in horror, but she understood why Xenovia had pushed her out of the way. Xenovia had predicted the strike coming, so even though she may not know the trajectory, she had a better chance at surviving than someone who was completely unaware.

"Die!" Freed yelled.

-!

BoooooM!

What?

Everyone just seemed to freeze for a split second, long enough to glance with their eyes.

It was a red streak in the night, a blip so fast it cold barely be seen if not for the shockwave that accompanied it.

The hairs on the back of their necks stood on end, a crushing feeling boring down on their shoulders that made everyone's movements sluggish.

It was almost as if time had slowed down while looking at the approaching fiery red dart; a hazy shadow manifesting from the magical energy exuding from the projectile and taking form.

Fur rising malevolently, and slanted red pupils narrowed, a sleek black hound seemed to rise up from an abyss. Snarling and drooling, gobs of silvery saliva dribbled down from its opened maw that was poised for attack.

Goosebumps ran across her body, and she could feel the very air around her seeming to compress with ill intentions.

There were no doubts in her mind.

This was a legendary demonic sword.

And an instant later, she knew that she had escaped with her life.

An enormous gale force swept her off of her feet and onto her bottom as the red streak zipped past her inches away from her body.

"Ah?"

The noise was almost inconceivable when it entered her ears; the sheer disbelief in it attributing to the fact that the voice's owner had yet to face the situation he was in.

Freed Sellzen still stood standing where he once was, his right sword arm gone as if mauled away by a vicious dog. Pieces of bone could be seen visible from the unceasing and pulsating spouts of blood that spewed from the wound.

However, there was significance in the fact that Freed had lost that arm. It was the very arm poised to strike at her.

This was not lost to her as the scene of Freed attempting to strike her down moments before played in her mind. The attack was aimed to separate her from Freed.

The silence that followed was stifling, everyone's eyes still following behind that quickly disappearing trail of crimson in the sky.

Valper Galilei's mouth was opened in disbelief as Kiba suddenly began to madly laugh at the unforeseen development.

Even Rias and her peerage were shell shocked. It was just so sudden.

Irina began to shakily shuffle to her feet from her position behind her. She quickly followed suit, pulling herself up to her feet by using Durandal as a crutch to haul herself up.

"W-What just happened?" There was a quiver in Irina's voice, but she couldn't blame her.

If she didn't compose herself before she spoke, then she was sure that her voice would have had been no different.

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "It was too fast to make anything of it."

"AAAGGH!" Freed finally screamed, the pain registering within his head. "Fuck fuck FUCK!"

The exorcist continued to curse, a feral gleam in his eyes that only intensified as he used his remaining arm to grip tightly onto his merged fragments of Excalibur.

She tensed while seeing this, grasping her swords with one hand each in preparation for an attack.

However, that sudden feeling of pressure boring down on her shoulders returned. This time, _doubled_.

O God.

Two streaks sailed up in the sky; one circumnavigating around its path to veer its point back at its target, and the other quickly approaching like an unstoppable arrow.

Like a pack of dogs, where there is one, there are others.

"Freed!" Valper immediately began to warn, but the speed of the attacks was just too great.

As they approached, that initial image of a hound charging, gradually shifted into the blurry figure of a man that caused Rias's to gawk in apparent incredulity. "T-That's!"

Sing, for the cometh of his arrival.

The slayer of beasts and the hero of the hall of Heorot.

Praise Beowulf, warrior of King Hygelac.

"Oh, for fuck's sa-"

"-Ghh!"

One moment Freed was just standing there, then in the next, she had to shield her eyes at the instant of the impact of the two attacks striking both Freed's upper and lower body at the same time.

And then, and then the exorcist was gone; a shower of gore leaving behind the fused pieces of Excalibur lodged into the ground.

Valper fell onto the ground; desperately backing away and looking fearfully up at the clouds above for any traces of that damned red.

Kiba only laughed harder, taking the time to walk up to the fused pieces of Excalibur.

"Everyone," Kiba muttered lowly, but she was trained enough to hear it. "Here and now, I will avenge you."

A sword appeared in his hands, stainless, and sleek, it emitted an aura of demonic energy.

"Kiba!" She couldn't help but call. After all, she had an inkling about Kiba's intentions.

Before when Kiba had tried to destroy Durandal he had failed due Durandal's peerless nature. Even if the fused pieces of Excalibur weren't Durandal, it was still a legendary Holy Sword. A mere demonic blade, no matter how powerful, would not be able to break it. Only something as absurd as the explosive strength contained within a combination between opposing powers would have any hope of succeeding.

Sure enough, when Kiba's sword struck the fused pieces of Excalibur, the result was a dent in his own sword.

Kiba froze, before yelling in anger as he swung relentlessly. However, no matter how hard he tried, the result always remained the same.

Falling down on to his knees, the demonic sword he had crafted in ruins, Kiba punched the ground.

"Why!" He yelled in sorrow. "Why won't it break!"

Valper began laughing, his shoulders vibrating up and down. "Excalibur is a Holy Sword. It is not something that can be so easily destroyed!"

Far from the panicked state Valper seemed to be in before, the man now appeared relaxed as those red streaks had yet to return in the duration of time.

However, this was odd in her eyes.

Freed Sellzen had been defeated, meaning that the only person defending Valper was gone. The other exorcists Valper had brought had already been dealt with in the location of the abandoned Church and on the way to Kuoh.

Therefore, where was Valper drawing his confidence from?

She nudged Irina by her side to alert her of her observations, but Irina didn't seem to notice as she was too busy staring at Issei who had walked up to Kiba's side to console.

She let out a loud sigh.

Irina should have had known better than to divide her attention in such a tense situation. Heck, Irina should have had been trained for it. However, it appeared that training was useless in the face of emotions.

She couldn't have had understood it before, but now, she had changed and could understand to a degree. Thus, she could only sigh.

Still, that didn't mean that her attention had left Valper.

The man was standing now, his expression carefree.

She understood why at the next moment.

"Valper," a deep voice penetrated the tense atmosphere.

Valper seemed to know who it was.

"Kokabiel," Valper greeted.

Upon hearing the name, no one present could dismiss it.

Kokabiel, the Angel of the Stars, and a prime leader of the Fallen Angel's Faction.

He was a young man with black hair, and pointed ears. A black rob was adorned on his person; a gold mantle hung from his shoulders that fluttered in the wind generated from the five pairs of black wings on his back.

A High Angel.

And a Fallen one too.

Behind Kokabeil's back, was a small legion of Fallen Angels.

She felt a shudder travel down her spine as she saw this. There was just too many of them to handle.

Yet, Kokabiel didn't even so much as pay attention to her or the rest. Instead, after having given a passing remark to Valper, the Fallen Angel was staring out into the distance with a hard eye.

"How unexpected," Kokabiel muttered, furrowing his brows which only further pronounced his high cheek bones. "Regardless, it suddenly disappeared?"

Continuing to mutter to himself, Kokabiel then turned his attention towards Rias.

"Rias Gremory," Kokabiel said slowly. "I hope your brother is doing well."

Rias grimaced and maintained silence, but that didn't mean that Kokabiel would cease talking. Indeed, this was the case.

"By now you should understand why I'm here, do you not? Even if you don't, it hardly matters as the Sitri heir should completely understand it by now," Kokabiel said.

Sona Sitri walked up next to Rias with her peerage behind her, and then stared evenly at Kokabiel.

"You wish to restart the War between the Factions," Sona stated. "Everything became clear the moment Kuoh Academy became the battle ground. The missing Excalibur pieces were just a spur of the moment. An interest that could serve as your entertainment. The true purpose was us, was it not?"

Kokabiel grinned. "Indeed. No matter the means and who instigated it, the result is what will prove vital. Will Sirzech Lucifer and Serafall Leviathan care about anything else in their anger? Their two younger sisters were killed by an opposing faction. War would start anew."

Rias's eyes widened. "You're crazy," she said.

"Crazy? No. The ones who are crazy are those cowards who stopped the war moments before a decisive victory. I'm only setting the beaten path straight," Kokabiel crossed his arms.

"The Church won't let this go," Irina said justly.

She herself followed up soon after wards.

Kokabiel didn't even seem to care. Ignoring her and Irina's remarks entirely. That was until Kokabiel's gaze landed squarely on her in disappointment.

"To think I worried over such a thing and brought along a few of my fallen brethren," Kokabiel's lip curled into a sneer. "I could recognize that aura anywhere. Durandal the Peerless sword. Unfortunately, you are not at Vasco Strada's level. Hardly better than a lion without a bite. You will not be able to corner me as that man once had. Although that other sword of yours has garnered quite a bit of my curiosity. However, it's still trivial in the hands of an owner who doesn't know how to use it."

She pursed her lips in response. Vasco Strada was the previous wielder of Durandal and the closest wielder to match the prestige of the Paladin Roland of Charlemagne. To reach that level, she still had a long way to go.

"Still, who would have expected that this precaution of mine would come to use. Someone worth my attention has been helping you." Saying that, Kokabiel once again scanned far into the distance, but didn't spot anything.

Kokabiel clicked his tongue before ordering a few Fallen Angels to search the area. However, this action would soon prove useless as the person in question was quickly making his way to the academy, a Holy Aura gradually building and expanding from the gentle movements of a necklace.

Kokabiel's attention then focused back onto her and the rest.

"Kokabiel, what should be done now?" Valper asked for instruction, still eying the merged pieces of Excalibur near Kiba.

"Hmm," Kokabiel hummed, not saying anything much. Instead, he appeared to be enjoying the scene of Kiba hunched down over the ground.

Kiba had been that way ever since he had still failed to shatter the merged pieces of Excalibur.

"God have mercy," she heard Asia Argento say from her position by Irina. Those words were probably spoken in consolation to the friends Kiba had lost and was still mourning for. The voice was accompanied by a moan of pain, but it seemed to draw Kokabiel's attention.

"God?" Kakabiel spoke irritably, seeming to recall something unpleasant. "Let me tell you ignorant fools why it is I consider my fellow Fallen leaders cowards. We were at our prime, the war would have been ours! The Four Great Satans had perished, and even God himself was no better."

"Y-You lie!" She immediately rebuked. What Kokabiel just insinuated, she would never believe it.

Kokabiel didn't seem to care about her response, caught up in his own indignation.

"We would have won. The other Factions had lost their strongest leaders, but we Fallen; we had not! Victory was at hand. So, what if we lost more of our numbers!?"

Kokabiel's hands balled into fists, but soon his expression returned to normal, but it was clear that his anger had not yet passed. An outlet was needed.

"Boy," Kokabiel said towards Kiba. "You lived while your friends died. Let me ask you, where have they gone now? To a kingdom without its King? It would be hard for souls to ascend to the Kingdom above without God's guidance. Even now those friends of yours may still be enduring torment."

Kokabiel was rubbing salt into a bitter wound.

Rias was incensed beyond belief.

Yet she couldn't stop the impact those words had on Kiba.

"Shut up!" Issei yelled from his position by Kiba.

However, it was already too late.

Kiba's shoulders sagged, the grief on his face evident for all to see.

She herself stared pitifully at Kiba knowing just what the guy had gone through.

"You're wrong," a voice spoke up. Light sounding and compassionate, it seemed to ward away the creeping dark.

"God can't be dead," Asia Argento strode forward, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "The souls in torment that you have spoken of surely have already obtained salvation."

"Amen," Irina spoke, doing a quick sign of the cross.

The power of the Heavens stems partly from the belief of the people. And that faith and earnest intention resounded at that moment.

Glory be his name.

To the power of the Kingdom above.

Deliver us from evil.

Her hands too formed the sign of the cross. Three maidens stood standing, in the face of accusation, all for the sake of another.

A steady stream of the feelings of the devote.

There was no way that a certain necklace would dismiss them as it approached with its owner.

 _Blessed it is are those who believe yet do not see._

A sudden heaviness engulfed the surroundings, causing the night to unexpectedly glimmer as if everyone had entered a dream like state.

At this moment,

A hand reached out to Kiba.

Small, and gentle, Kiba appeared as if a thunder bolt had struck him, his body shuddering violently.

It was a little child, but this child was ethereal. Floating in the air, there was a sort of gentleness in her presence that became all the more apparent as this specter maneuvered itself to cradle Kiba's face with her palms.

Xenovia didn't know when, but Kiba had started sobbing, nestling his head onto the specter's shoulder.

However, this wasn't for long.

Under everyone's gaze, a wry smile appeared on the specter's face before she moved her hands away from Kiba and clasped them behind her back while slowly backing away.

It was as if it were a butterfly dancing in the night. Carefree and uncaring about any worldly troubles.

Swaying back and forth, it lingered within everyone's views, a child playfully dancing and disappearing towards the sudden brilliance that appeared to their left.

 _Flecks of light, as if playing tricks on the eyes._

This was her initial thought as she absently rubbed at them.

Yet truly they were not. It was there. It was visible.

 _Soft and dim, fuzzy yet bright._

 _When words can no longer explain the inexplicable, he who walks the path of the just is the one acknowledged as a prophet._

Step by step, she had no doubts as to who was approaching; the presence unmistakable as her blood began to pump in excitement.

 _With a word, the birds sing._

 _With an action, the world quakes in reverence._

"N-No! It can't be?!"

Kokabiel's expression stiffened till the point it was as if he had become a statue; his arms were protectively shielding in front of him and trembling with each passing moment.

That reaction wasn't odd though. All around her, similar expressions could be seen from Rias and the others, and yet all she could feel at this moment was a tender warmth. The kind she had only ever felt in the arms of her mother.

The swords in her hands dropped, erecting themselves on the ground; pillars of resplendent Holy light reaching forth towards the clouds, twisting and swirling, a path to the heavens.

* * *

 _"_ _M-Michael T-THIS!?_

* * *

Sinners and sin, death and redemption.

It is the choices one makes that dictates the result.

The honest man's actions, a mere reflection of the intentions hidden within.

For there is good in people.

A purpose in being saved.

A hope in a dream and a desire to save all.

"Xenovia, Irina, sorry I'm late."

The sound of a voice entered her ears, yet she could hardly pay attention to it.

Because, looking at it now, she was certain, but,

It appeared as if Shirou could not see what she could see as he approached.

An aura manifesting the image of the Holy Cross: the sacred symbol of the Church emblazoned in a coat of flickering iridescent mist. Tendrils of lightning like energy twisted and writhed on the wooden surface; a crown of thorns lay hung and slanted over a single word: INRI.

 _Hail Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews_.

A motif of the Heavenly Palace.

The Battle Standard of the Holy Faction of the Great War.

* * *

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	14. He who rules in the clouds

His back seemed to encompass all, able to shoulder the heaviest of burdens much like another.

A man who had once waged war for the sake of others.

 _Kind._

 _Compassionate._

 _He who only cared about the protection and livelihood of all beings in creation. An individual who would have had simply preferred to dote on his children over anything else._

Unfortunately, that man would soon disappear from the world, and with it, hostilities would only intensify.

Rage.

Anger.

And Resentment.

 _War begets hate._

 _Hate brings about animosity._

 _Yet the man had donned the crown of brittle thorns, and bore it all._

The man knew what his death would entail as he had lay battered, bruised, and dying. He did not fear death, nor did he resent the enemies that brought him to such a stage; rather, at that moment, he was bitterly tired and depressed.

For all the enemies he had slain.

For all the blood that been shed.

And even the tenuous balance he had created to limit casualties.

It was all for nothing as it would fade away with his departure knowing the grief his sons and daughters would suffer as a result.

He couldn't just die.

He couldn't just leave the war as it was.

And so, he would take a gamble with the only object that manifested as a result of his earlier confrontation.

 _He wished upon a Grail._

 _The Catalyst of undoing._

* * *

Shirou's steps echoed out into the ears of those before him who stood still, and were seemingly in a state of shock. Pale faced, and cheeks sunken, even she could hear the sound of their hearts pounding madly within their chests as they backed away at his advance.

Irina, and Asia were no different from them, rooted in place; but the expressions on their faces stood in contrast to the rest.

Flushed, and filled with reverence.

Although, she supposed that she was the same.

"In God we pray," she and Irina lowered their heads and knelt.

The Holy Cross, the Battle Standard of the Holy Faction of the Great War. It was a standard reserved only for the elite of Heaven's forces led by God himself; for it was the same cross in which Jesus took up the sins of the world.

None should be able to employ it but God for it was an item that spoke of the ideology he carried in the War. He who would suffer the burdens of the world for the sake of all.

The significance of that alone was not something that could be acknowledged by a mere prayer. Hell, she even considered putting everything else aside and bowing on her knees in a show of piety. As far as she was concerned, it would be an honour her peers could never hope to achieve. For the emergence of the Holy Cross was just that rare as God was never one to actively participate in battle.

Despite the situation she was in, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement when she noticed the seriousness in Shirou's complexion slacken with just her and Irina's actions. She could already picture the awkwardness should she have had actually bowed on her knees like she could tell Irina was actually contemplating of doing; Irina's eyes glancing demurely at her for confirmation.

She would save Shirou that trouble. As although there was a portion of herself that wished to see what kind of a reaction he would make, she knew that this wasn't the time or place.

Kokabiel was still rooted from the shock of it all. After all, the Holy Cross had never known defeat on the battlefield, becoming a legend that sent dread into the hearts of the Fallen Angels and Devils alike. However, she could tell that it wouldn't be long before this leader of the Fallen Angels would compose himself. Things were different from then and now.

From what her mother told her, it wasn't just the Devils and Fallen Angels that suffered greatly in the Great War between the Factions. The Angels had too.

Glancing up at that image of the legendary Battle Standard, she once again became lost in it. Not only did it not disappear, but its presence only became more prominent. In which case, the only thing that troubled her was the obliviousness of the oaf who was displaying it. Such an honourable and envious position of bearing the cross was being completely disregarded.

"Xenovia, Irina?" Shirou tried again, seemingly trying his best to maintain his patience with their behaviour.

Her brows twitched, and a strained smile appeared over her lips as an absent thought of beating down this heathen appeared in her mind, but it was quickly dismissed.

The seriousness in Shirou's eyes finally knocking everyone out of their stupor.

"Mr. Emiya," Sona was the first to speak out using the limited time she had before Kokabiel collected himself. "How confident are you of winning?"

This was the question that everyone wanted the answer to.

With the entrance Shirou had made, from the way everyone now looked at him, he had become the defacto leader. The one everyone relied on; and based on the resoluteness on Shirou's face, he knew it too.

Shirou was silent. The Holy Cross on his back began to creak and buckle as divine light began to shower down upon the Fallen Angels and throughout the entirety of Kuoh.

 _A stellar world of brilliance._

"I don't know for sure," Shirou spoke as he began walking towards the enemy. "But I can promise that none of you shall die here today. And you,"

Shirou's gaze landed on Kokabiel whose hand was outstretched with a mass of light energy in his palms.

No words were spoken further as the attack large enough to wipe out the entirety of Kuoh blasted towards him; shockwaves left behind in its wake. Metal bent and shattered, assailed by a searing force equivalent to the sun that seared the ground, causing it to bubble and sizzle. Glass melted into opaque pools of liquid, trickling down and further heating the air.

Kokabiel, Fallen Angel and the Morning Star of Heaven.

With his will, the world burned.

With his thought, armies of the strongest of Kings perished.

The original vanguard of the Heavens, the first to engage the enemy before the arrival of the Angel of War.

Eyes narrowing, Shirou outstretched a hand.

 _Ravager of armies._

 _And he whose power could render the earth into a sea of searing light._

 _None able to avoid its heat._

 _Yet mighty angel,_

 _The mountain of Sinai has never burned._

And this Divine Sword will not either.

 _Bridge a path to a new dawn._

 _A ray of hope._

" **IG ALIMA**!" A hand clenched as it dropped forward in a swinging motion.

Holy and Magical power exploded from Shirou in a violent storm.

The emergence of a gigantic shadow nearly stopping the hearts of those present; some even gawking in sheer amazement or horror.

Ig Alima.

A construct of the of Gods. The Mountain Felling blade said to have cut through the fabled thousand mountains. For its size alone enabled it to. Layers upon layers of thick steel piled upon each other such that a human standing upon it would be nothing more than an ant. The base and pommel were crafted upon with jagged black stone, an inscription of an ancient language undistinguishable.

His clothes fluttered up, the attractive force generated from Ig Alima's massive size effecting the gravity of the space itself.

Like fire to a steel plate, the fiery ball of light was smothered by the sword's fall. Blackish burns marred its surface, small wisps of steam crawling out from the sides.

The Fallen Angels that were unlucky enough to be caught beneath it were flattened till the point that even the blood disintegrated from the impact. The Fallen Angels that had once been numerous had already been reduced to nearly half, the lost half crushed by the mountain felling sword.

A path had been opened. Like the parting of the Red Sea, Fallen Angels stood rooted in place on either side, and at the forefront was Kokabiel whose features had become incredibly strained. Out of everyone present, it appeared that only Shirou could contend with the Fallen Angel Leader.

"Wait here," Shirou spoke as he moved forward atop Ig Alima step by step.

Off to the side near Kiba, gravel and dirt erupted into a plume of dust as a streak of sword light appeared barreling across the sky.

Shirou raised a hand, a blade's pommel landing within it.

 _The Sword of Promised Victory._

The pieces of Excalibur that had been stolen by Valper ended up in Shirou's possession. Soon after, Valper stared vacantly as those pieces melted into liquid and melded over a sword and sheath strapped to Shirou's side.

Six more seals appeared over that sheathed blade, and the Holy Aura of it increased exponentially.

Doves seemed to come to life over the Holy Cross still floating over Shirou's back. Perching atop the jutting ends, they seemed to sing for a bright tomorrow.

And with that, Shirou gave a nod before disappearing in a sudden burst of speed down Ig Alima's length, kicking up a storm of debris and leaving everyone else behind.

"D-Divine construct," Valper babbled in disbelief after his eyes could no longer see the sword sheathed on Shirou's side, and then once again stared at this monstrosity of a sword. "What kind of human is that?"

Valper backed away from his position on the ground.

No one stopped him.

She herself was still caught in a stupor like everybody else.

"'He doesn't know if he can win,' he said, are you fucking kidding me!" Issei yelled incredulously. "He pulls out a god-damn skyscraper of a sword, defeats over half of them alone, and he still says he can't win?!"

Indeed.

Even now she could still recall his last image before he took off.

He who stood alone bearing the cross with the Sword of Promised Victory by his side. He appeared to be an unbeatable warrior whose defeat seemed impossible.

It was times like now where she wondered if she'd ever catch up to him even with the Holy Swords by her side.

There was a silence as everyone unknowingly stared into each others shell-shocked expressions.

Rias cleared her throat to quiet Issei down, but it was hardly convincing as the display just now only solidified the unfathomable feeling she felt about Shirou.

It was Sona who ended up getting things together first.

"Regardless of what kind of human he is, do you think he'd accept peera-" Sona coughed into her hands as she noticed the glares she was receiving, and wisely decided to put the matter down for the moment. "Regardless of what Shirou has said about obtaining victory, I've already sent word to my sister and lord Lucifer," Sona adjusted her glasses with a finger.

"More importantly though, I'm going to have to trouble you with a favour Rias," Sona continued. "The barrier around Kuoh Academy, it won't last long with the amount of energy being outputted from within even with my added intervention. I already have Saji and the rest of my peerage fortifying it, but I'm afraid it still won't hold. Needless to say, the outcome of the barrier falling will not bode well for the humans living outside."

"You can feel it can't you?" Sona continued. "The pressure being emitted from this Divine Construct, Ig Alima," Sona's expression turned curious when she spoke the name of the Divine Construct, but she was a prudent woman and hid her interests well. "Not only that, but if Shirou battles with Kokabiel, then there's even more reason to fortify it now before it's too late."

Rias nodded. "We can't allow this battle to spread across our territory and hurt the innocents, Akeno."

"I'm on it, President," Akeno said before moving by Sona's side.

"I'd come myself, but I'm worried about certain things and need to remain," Rias apologized.

Sona conceded as she cast a discrete glance towards Kiba. Even with Shirou's incredible display, Kiba had barely been fazed; still in a daze from when that child-like specter had appeared before him.

"Akeno should be enough."

Sona was decisive, taking Akeno and hurrying towards the spell formation of the barrier around Kuoh.

"What should we do?" Irina asked her as soon as Sona left.

She didn't really have much of an answer to that really as she stared forth at Shirou who had become the focal point of attack for all of the Fallen Angels. Bouts of light and energy continually spiralled outward, ending in explosions that echoed out in the distance.

To be honest with herself. What she really wanted to do was help Shirou, but she knew that doing so may hinder him in that crowd of enemies.

She glanced at Ig Alima, imagining herself running down its length to reach directly towards Kokabiel and the other Fallen.

Unexpectedly though, it was because of this action that she noticed a regiment of Fallen Angels coming towards them.

"Enemies!" She warned Rias and the rest before gripping her swords.

Rias and the others tensed visibly, but what she focused more on was the fact that Kiba hadn't reacted. It would seem that whatever had affected him before was still affecting him now. Thinking back to how Kiba had worked with her for a time, she couldn't just abandon a comrade, even if that comradery was only temporary.

"Irina," she motioned towards her partner, and the two of them quickly stood defensively with Rias, Asia, and Koneko in front of Kiba.

"You two?" Rias muttered.

She felt weird helping a Devil, but perhaps this situation called for it. Things had already escalated from just infringing on the borders of Devil territory to conduct a search, to a potential outbreak of a new war. Like it our not, Rias had to be defended, but at least among Devils Rias was descent.

"Tch," she grunted. "We'll handle the ones at the front."

"And I'll heal the injured," Asia said.

Irina showed her acknowledgment by readying her own blade.

"Then we'll provide support," Rias said before nodding at Koneko to help engage the enemies.

Meanwhile Valper had taken the opportunity to run towards the coming Fallen Angels, taking shelter there.

Those Fallen Angels gave Valper a glance, but other than that, their main target seemed to lock onto her and Irina.

"You two are coming with us," one of the Fallen Angels spoke in a gruff tone. Thereafter, another Fallen Angel stared at Rias and her group. "And them two," the Fallen Angels added on.

Her eyes widened as she soon realized the enemy's intentions. Just based solely on the number of Fallen Angels Shirou was defeating, even she could feel the Fallen Angels concern. In which case, why would they suddenly drag Irina, herself, and Rias and the others into the conflict?

It was surely to use against Shirou.

"Over my dead body," Xenovia said clearly, squaring her shoulders to place more strength in her arms.

"Then so be it," the Fallen Angel spoke appearing by her side.

This Fallen Angel was obviously the strongest of the group as she possessed four pairs of wings, making her an eight-winged Fallen.

Experience born from the Dimensional Cross jogged her instincts; her hands swiftly stabbing forward with Durandal even as she tipped her body back to dodge.

Durandal met the Fallen Angel's sword of light and lodged itself into it, forcing the Fallen to dismiss it as the Fallen then blasted out with a light beam.

Unfortunately, Durandal X would foil the Fallen Angel's plans. Even more so when it was accompanied by a tiny fist wearing paw-printed fighting gloves.

Paying more attention to Durandal X's approach, the Fallen Angel was immediately caught off guard as the force of that tiny fist propelled her back several meters tumbling against the ground.

"Hmph," Koneko snorted while pretending to brush the dirt off her hands. Meanwhile Issei who wasn't far off was trying to brush a foot mark off of his face as he spluttered in indignation.

Infuriated, the eight-winged Fallen Angel was just about to attack again, only to feel a searing pain on her side from a ball of destruction which ate away at one of her wings.

"You bitch!" She cursed at Rias.

Soon after, the Fallen Angel floated back with the rest of the Fallen Angels she had brought along with her having embarrassed herself enough.

"Attack together," the Fallen Angel ordered.

Simply nodding, all of the Fallen Angels attacked at once.

Spears of light pelted the ground like arrows. Dirt and grime exploding everywhere and leaving behind only cracked ground.

Yet on this cracked ground, Xenovia, Irina, and Koneko coordinated together to dodge or parry while Issei moved by Rias's side to impart his skill of 'Gift.' An ability that allowed Issei to transfer his boosted power.

"This is getting us nowhere," Xenovia complained.

"Then attack," Koneko spoke calmly while dodging left.

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Irina asked, but she felt a sense of dread when Koneko's eyes landed on her. Therefore, she ended up hiding behind Xenovia.

"?" Xenovia stared back at Koneko, and in the next moment, she was soaring across the sky while Irina stared blankly before swallowing.

"I'm fine with defending," Irina immediately voiced before Koneko could get her hands on her.

As for Xenovia, although she was surprised at first, she still managed to use the opportunity.

Sword light appeared over both Durandal and Durandal X; expanding the reach of the swords by several times as she swung out in arcs that injured many Fallen Angels. The power of Durandal was such that it could cleave through the weapons of even six-winged Angels let alone the numerous four-winged Fallen Angels she was currently attacking.

When the eight-winged Fallen Angel saw this, the Fallen Angel became thoroughly incensed. Even more so when she could still feel the pain of losing a wing.

The eight-winged Fallen Angel turned her gaze towards her comrades and came to an agreement.

Angered by the resistance and death of their own, the Fallen Angels seemed to come to a consensus as their auras shone with a vengeful gleam.

"Die!" They all yelled.

Xenovia smirked dismissively.

The arrows of light the Fallen Angels had aimed at her, Irina, Issei, and Koneko were nowhere near close enough to hit. Though admittedly, they were just off by a couple inches.

However, she, Irina, Issei, and Koneko would only realize their mistake when Rias shouted from behind them.

"Kiba!" Rias yelled in panic, but there was nothing she could do as the arrows of light quickly sailed on a collision course towards Kiba.

Having been angered, the Fallen Angels had decided to vent their frustration by killing the stationary knight. After all, the Fallen Angels didn't necessarily need all of the people present to act as hostages.

However, the panic in Rias's voice was enough to knock some sense back into Kiba.

Finally, out of his stupor, it was only to see the combined attack of the Fallen Angels converging on him.

Time seemed to slow down, the seconds passing away like minutes, but even as Kiba's mind raced, there was barely anything he could do. His strongest strength had always been his speed, but currently, even that would amount to nothing when the attack was already before him.

He should have had acted sooner, yet every time Kiba closed his eyes, he could picture the image of the little girl. She had been the youngest out of all of them in the Holy Sword Project, and in the end, she was still the one who had endured the most for their sake.

Smiling at the pits of despair.

A rose in a wasteland.

And even in death, it had been her to once again appear in his moment of weakness.

It was as she had always done.

After every tortures experiment, it had always been her to greet him and the rest with a tenderness and maturity that should not have appeared in a girl of her age. Yet she died, unknowingly poisoned to death where she and the others had waited for the friend who would never return. The only one to live.

 _Damn it._

The guilt was eating away at him even now.

Yet when he looked up. He saw it once again just past the incoming attack.

The Holy Cross, tall and unbending, the symbol he had once prayed to numerous times. The one thing that was constant within his and everyone else's life within that cruel project. But their prayers were never answered even till the end.

Staring at it now, moisture accumulated in his eyes as he bowed his head in resignation.

 _"_ _Lord why have you forsaken me?"_

The sound of Rias's and Koneko's shouts.

The sound of _everything_ seemed to grow deaf as the Fallen Angels attacks were mere inches away from striking him.

"…?!"

It was a shield of glimmering stars bound together by a shared will to protect.

 _We are friends, brothers and sisters._

Ethereal figures appeared one by one, hands clasped and fingers intertwined.

 _You have suffered for our sake._

The power of the Fallen Angels attack dwindled; the strength of its light transferring into a steady flow of energy that coalesced into a clear orb that faded into Kiba's body.

 _And for that, we can only offer our thanks._

 _But do not suffer for our sake any longer._

One wobbly step, then another, Kiba's shoulders seemed to sag as he wept. Devil or Human, it didn't matter what Kiba was. At the moment, all that could be seen was an individual steepled in regret and misgivings.

 _That cry baby of back then was never meant to become the man you are now._

 _You have done enough already._

Courage.

Heart.

And Hope.

The emotions which allowed one to persevere against all odds, now seemed to shine at their brightest; captured within the earnest desire of those who had simply sought out for a better life.

 _From this day on, it's our turn to fight for you._

 _Reach out from the hate._

The hands that were held tight together, opened.

 _Our light in the dark._

Those swords gripped in Kiba's hands fell and clattered against the ground; left forgotten as another began to manifest, clasped within trembling hands.

"K-Kiba you?!"

The words Rias was about to say got caught in her throat, her eyes widening from what she was feeling.

Holy Attribute.

The energy of the Heavens.

Smiling for the last time, the specters gathered together around Kiba; bodies fading away into the ether; a trail of stardust swirling up into a storm that dissipated within Kiba's chest.

BOOM!

A pillar of Holy Energy tinted with traces of dark stretched towards the sky, generating winds that forced back enemy and ally alike.

"Geh," Rias winced as she rose an arm to shield her eyes.

She herself was no better, rooting herself in place by using her swords as leverage against the ground much like Irina. Hands trembling from exhaustion, she nearly lost his grip when a second shockwave of wind erupted out from Kiba's direction.

Eyes bleary, she could just barely make out Rias's figure as she was blown back, having had nothing to support her.

Luckily, she was caught by Koneko who had been standing near Rias since the start should anything go wrong.

When the winds died down, and the world grew still, arcs of purple tinted energy struck at the ground in lightning like tendrils that proliferated into the air. The nearest Fallen Angles fell to the ground in droves, bodies still spasming from whatever attack had affected them.

However, it was hard to pay attention to that when compared to the shock of seeing what was firmly grasped in Kiba's hands,

A sword of Holy and Demonic attribute.

Sleek, obsidian, and tinted with gleaming ivory coloured steel, it stood in contrast to the opposing elements.

A Holy-Demonic sword had been created.

"T-That's not possible!" Valper exclaimed, voicing the thoughts of everyone present. "Unless…"

Two opposing powers should not mix. The most basic example being fire and water. When one mixed with the other, the only result should inevitably be mutual destruction. Fire can not exist in the presence of water as light can not mix with demonic properties.

It was based on the laws of the world. The same rules that applied to all fundamental properties of matter and thought. Something that could never be violated to maintain order. It was a balancer. A term necessary to describe the volatile nature of keeping the two opposing attributes separated.

Humans called it physics and the sciences, but the supernatural referred to it as God's system.

For the fusion of two opposing elements lead to exponential increase in instability and explosive power. Yet, if the two elements were to somehow hold stable, then its strength and durability would be something unimaginable.

And right now, before her very eyes, there it was.

Opposing elements of Holy and Demonic held in stability.

This was wrong.

Already she felt that something was off when the light that entered Kiba's body didn't harm him despite his Devil's constitution, but now, the evidence seemed to point to only a single conclusion.

 _"_ _The Four Great Satans had perished, and even God himself was no better."_

The words she had adamantly thought spoken in jest suddenly surfaced to plague her mind, her confidence in her own beliefs waning.

Before when this matter was brought up, Shirou had arrived bearing the Holy Cross, so it completely slipped her mind. Now though? It was hard not to think about it when it involved her reason for fighting.

Suddenly a laughter filled the area.

"Of course! That's it, that explains it!" Valper spoke in hysterics. "God's system was created in conjunction with the rules of creation. A limiter to balance the scales and reduce conflict and death."

Valper swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he perspired.

"Yet such a system that spans the entirety of the very world is not so easily maintained, yet regardless can still function under the control of another. But a sword of Holy and Demonic attribute has been created. Which means to say that the efficiency of the system has decreased. This should be impossible as the creator would have a complete understanding of the system created. Therefore,"

 _The user is not the original._

This line of thought was the most striking, simply because of the single question, 'who was the original?'

It was no one else but God himself. In which case, that would mean that,

 _God was dead._

Her legs began to shake as she nearly lost her footing. It was like a sword had pierced directly through her chest, causing her to eventually fall into despair. For what did she fight for? For whom did she dedicate her devotion and servitude towards? It was for the creator of miracles, the one who would lead the people to salvation.

And now, understanding that this man may no longer have had even existed in the entirety of her lifetime, it was a blow she could hardly take. Stronger than the most devastating of attacks. This was a strike on her beliefs and ideals that completely shattered them. After all, it would mean that everything she had done and sought after was just a lie.

She felt hollow, and at the lowest point in her life.

Even the warmth coming from Durandal could hardly placate her, and in the end, she could only stare vacantly as Valper laughed madly.

If not for Irina making her way to support her, then it was likely that she would have been skewered by a sword of light coming from a Fallen Angel.

"Xenovia!" Irina shook her shoulders. "I-It's a mistake, it can't be right; so, snap out of it," she urged.

However, she herself was not stupid. Valper's theory was solid. There were no errors in it. Thus, there was a high probability in its credibility.

She turned towards Irina, her eyes downcast.

"Irina, for what did we fight for?" Her hair shadowed her eyes, her shoulders hunched as a shudder travelled throughout her body.

"…" Irina couldn't answer.

The grip Xenovia had on her swords slackened. At this point, she really didn't know what her answer would be if she was offered peerage by any Devil. At least they remained true to their cause and desires. Yet, at this moment, a hand clasped her own.

It was Asia Argento, the Holy Maiden she loathed for abandoning the principles of the church. Yet looking at it now, it was a contempt born of her own ignorance.

"You?" She questioned the Holy Maiden's intentions.

"Belief is our strength," Asia spoke solemnly. "If you abandon it, then what do we have left? The Church was founded by him, the teachings a direct relationship to his ideals. Is that not enough?"

Hearing Asia's words, she was left at a loss.

"Do to others as you would have them do to you."

"To live by the cross," Irina muttered upon hearing Asia's words. "Do not be blinded by the views of others. For blessed are those who believe."

 _This?_ They had a point that couldn't be dismissed. Her mother had raised her upon those principles, and she had not once doubted them, for they were right and just.

Still, it was true in that what she had been fighting for was a lie.

Her features once again dimmed. No matter how sugar coated or comforting words were, it can't change reality.

She brushed off Asia's hands, and stared hard at the reflection of herself from Durandal's blade. It was the reflection of any other girl, young and vibrant, yet she could see the blankness of her eyes.

Still and lifeless.

In those eyes, she saw a woman who no longer knew her purpose.

 _A steady wind that came from above, zephyrs that heralded the coming of change._

She stumbled on her feet, shielding her face by instinct from the sudden onslaught.

There, still in the middle of the Fallen Angels, was the man who had once come to her aid.

Tall, and imposing, possessing a back that seemed to ward away all evils. There was a certain fortitude that exuded from him in waves. The kind that seemed to banish away all her doubts; reminding her that in the end, it was her own choice to live by her own principles.

This was the man she now truly felt that she should remain with. A steady mountain to support her against the waves of the world. The very same man who would sacrifice himself to save her without any regard for his own life. Memories of that time in the Dimensional Cross surfaced in her mind. The foolish friend that she had first made, to the place that figure now occupied within her.

A Holy Man.

A Saint that stood alone in the world.

The shining beacon that she could draw faith from.

And now, surrounded by Fallen Angels, that mountain still stood rooted in the face of it all.

The immovable,

And yet, something seemed off at this moment.

The faces of the Fallen Angels surrounding Shirou were strange. Some pale and contorted, while others just screamed of their disbelief. This sudden development only became more apparent when Kokabiel who had neglected to act at any point since the beginning suddenly stiffened, fear in his eyes.

Not only were the Fallen Angels not attacking, but some were even attempting to flee, yet were blocked by the many other frozen bodies of their Fallen Angel comrades.

 _When the lost sheep strays from its flock and ventures forth into the darkness,_

W-What was going on? What did they see that she couldn't?

 _Know that the Good Shepherd will wander across the open country until he finds it._

-Kirik!

Hair raising, she soon stiffly turned her head to stare with widened eyes at the Holy-Demonic sword in Kiba's hands.

For it had shattered into tiny fragments that formed a crystal on Kiba's chest.

* * *

He had felt exhausted battling it out while surrounded at all sides. In the first place, his magical reserves were inadequate due to the atrophy his twenty-seven magic circuits had underwent in his youth. Firing off Hrunting and Ig Alima alone had already made a considerable dip in his reserves, but how could he allow that to show in his appearance?

He had felt it from the moment that he had made his entrance.

He was the center of his sides defending force.

To show weakness was to discourage those he was protecting behind him. And for their sake, he would remain strong even though the pain had become unbearable after unleashing his previous Noble Phantasms.

The use of Ig Alima had served two purposes, namely intimidation, and culling the enemy's numbers. Frankly, it had worked, as none dared to approach him until he reached within fifty meters of Kokabiel who instigated the rest into action. Because of this action, Kokabiel's weariness had become clear.

Kokabiel did not wish to face him without understanding his capabilities.

This was for the best as his body was calling for an energy he simply didn't possess. If not for the steady supply of it that he could feel originating from the necklace around his neck, then he surely would have had collapsed by now. At least by facing the rest of the Fallen Angels he cold conserve part of his strength to last his longest.

From what he had heard Rias and Sona discussing about with his enhanced hearing after he left, help was sure to be on the way if only he could hold out long enough.

Eyes shifting across the battle field, he made a decision as he crossed the swords in his hands into a firm guard.

Yet, just as he resolved himself to trace out another Noble Phantasm, a sudden thrum originated from one of his pockets which distracted him.

Brows furrowing, he watched silently as the crystal he had discovered in the warehouse prior rocketed towards where Kiba, Xenovia, and the rest were fighting. It was like a comet only he could see streaking across the atmosphere and glowing with a dull luster.

"Tch," he groaned as he parried away an arrow of light, the enemies around him capitalizing on his moment of distraction.

Shifting his weight on the ground, he tore a gash into his attacker with a quick stab. However, before he could execute another counter, he was forced to retreat as more and more strikes converged on him.

Clicking his tongue, he let go of Kanshou and used another Fallen Angel as a shield while slowly trying to gain a semblance of calm within the rapid flurry of strikes.

 _Understanding the concepts of creation._

"Agh!" He shouted out while head butting the nearest enemy.

 _Light is a fundamental weapon of Fallen Angels and Angels alike. The innate gift granted to them upon their birth and maintained even in their fall._

He needed a weapon to counter it. Something that banished the principle of magic and returned the world into a more primitive time.

His hands let go of Kanshou and Bakuya, the married swords fading away into particles of prana as he sidestepped past a beam of energy.

 _The hero of the spear._

A weapon he had seen upon peering into the vastness of the Gate of Babylon.

 _The bane of all magic and the supernatural._

"Trace, on!"

Blood-shot eyes narrowing, he grasped out at the air, veins bulging and mind racing. This was the moment he had been waiting for.

Empty handed, and seemingly in a desperate situation, the enemies should not be able to resist converging on him in this state of weakness.

 _A gift from the druid Aengus Óg._

A red spear that severs all ties with magical energy. Sing for the legend of a Knight of Fianna.

"Drill! Gáe Dearg!"

His shout echoed out within the encirclement; showers of blood raining across the ground as the weapons of light held in the hands of the Fallen Angels were completely bypassed.

The shock on their faces was apparent as they died in a heap around him, unable to block a single swipe of the spear.

An ominous cloud of red seemed to form, a mist created from the shower of life fluid.

 _Gáe Dearg: Crimson Rose of Exorcism._

A two-meter scarlet spear with a slightly double-curved blade.

It was the spear of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, the first Knight of the Knight's of Fianna, and the son of Donn, god of the dead and ancestor of the Gaels.

Almost immediately as he spoke out the Noble Phantasm's name, Kokabiel's expression once again shifted. Already Kokabiel had seen him pull out a legendary weapon, yet this was the first time that the man had been within hearing distance; the other time being drowned out by the violence.

What he himself didn't know that Kokabiel did though, was that in this world, the Factions were not the only powers in existence. The Norse, Celtic, Greek, and other pantheons existed as well. His continued use of lost 'Weapons of Legend' would enter the view of these pantheons sooner or later.

But it was not something he would concern himself with even knowing that.

Expelling a breath, his eyes set on Kokabiel while he pointed Gáe Dearg forward with one hand in a provocative gesture.

Wearing out his stamina fighting these Fallen Angels would leave him nowhere but an eventual defeat. In which case, targeting the head was his only other option as his sole advantage lay in his attack power and the element of surprise. That, and the energy the necklace was supplying him to maintain his expenditures. It was only the strain on his body that was now the problem.

Yet at this moment, said energy suddenly began to over flow.

"!?"

His mind went blank as Xenovia's voice somehow entered his ears.

 _"_ _Irina, for what did we fight for?"_

Gáe Dearg faded away in his hands, his gaze shifting in her direction. What he saw left him stunned.

The girl he met by the Church Creak, although somewhat distant and could be described as cold at least still possessed a fire within her. The one that entered his gaze now was almost completely different. Her gaze was vacant and seemingly at a loss; the strength she possessed before having disappeared despite the power of the Durandals in her hands.

He didn't like it.

This wasn't her.

 _Unknowingly, the energy within the necklace continued to overflow until a state where it had become a raging flame that forced the Fallen Angels to distance themselves._

But what had caused such a change in her?

In any case, there was only a single thought in his mind.

To help her.

And it was the emergence of this thought that brought him to a place different from the battlefield.

He blinked his eyes once, then twice, yet still the scenery around him did not change. Walls of rough stone that encircled a chamber of some sort within a cave.

The only light came from the sword by his side: The merged pieces of Excalibur that he had been unable to draw from its sheath.

This had been apparent to him when the seals around the sheath were still locked.

Raising it up like a torch to bath the room in its light, he made his way towards the only path leading out of the chamber. At this point, it was his only option as he knew that he needed to return to help Xenovia and the rest. He didn't have the time to just sit idle.

Walking forward through the tiny passage, the light from the merged pieces of Excalibur begun to dim little by little until the point it was barely brighter than a match's glow.

Creasing his brows, he didn't have the patience to worry about it and proceeded on towards the flickering light he could see ahead.

What appeared before him, in this world that solely encompassed this dim-lit cave,

Was a burning bush.

* * *

The Holy-Demonic Sword had shattered before her eyes.

I-It shattered?

Her mind blanked as it processed this fact and the significance it held.

She closed her eyes before she let out a breath. When she opened them, there was a new-found determination that caused her to grasp her blades with a renewed vigor.

"Irina," she called. "I-"

"I know, you don't have to say it," Irina's expression was beaming.

It was the same for Asia Argento who secretly let out a breath in relief, but she didn't notice such a thing as she was too busy glaring at Valper.

She was angry that she had allowed herself to be so swayed by this man's words, no matter how logical they were. As a devote, logic should have had played no part in her belief. Instead, she should have had been like Asia Argento, the Holy Maiden. Despite becoming a Devil, Asia's virtue had never changed; it was just she who had been blinded by her own ignorance that couldn't see it.

Thinking back to her past actions towards the particular girl, regret was beginning to form. However, it wasn't something that she could readily amend, not with her character. Instead, she decided she'd make up for it somehow, or some way.

"It's over, Valper," Irina spoke after making sure that no more Fallen Angels were attacking.

For one reason or another, all of them had just stopped, providing a temporary respite. Using this time, Irina positioned herself next to Valper to apprehend the ex-priest.

Kiba was the next to follow, but his gaze seemed lost as he palmed the crystal that had formed on his chest, in his hand.

"What is this?" Kiba demanded of Valper, pulling him up by the scruff of his neck.

Valper met Kiba's gaze before clicking his tongue and gazing to the side.

At this time, she along with Asia, Rias, Issei, and Koneko moved in to join by Kiba's side.

"Answer me!" Kiba screamed, tossing Valper to the ground before forming a sword.

However, it wasn't Valper who answered. Instead, it was Irina who stood rigid as her eyes carefully observed the crystal in Kiba's hands.

"T-That looks like the crystal my Pastor used on me just before the Holy Sword Trials," Irina muttered.

Valper stared at Irina before grunting. "Hypocrites is what they are. Banish me for creating it, yet coveting it themselves," Valper scoffed before staring straight at Kiba. "Fine then, let me tell you. That crystal container in your hands contains the holy properties of a person born within their souls. Allowing one without sufficient light to be capable of wielding even the strongest Holy Swords in existence."

Irina's face paled while a murderous light appeared within Kiba's eyes.

"The Holy properties within a soul…Then you?!"

"Indeed. To be frank, the process tore the very souls from their bodies, much like the Heavenly Dragons before God stored them within Sacred Gears. From there, the Holy attribute was harnessed," Valper spoke clearly. "The culmination of my life's work and dream."

This was who Valper was, a man who had become fascinated with the tales of Holy Swords since childhood only to be disappointed with his own lack of talent. Even still, that did not stop the man from fulfilling his dream through sheer persistence. Just that fact alone would have had made him admirable if not for his loss of morality.

She turned away as she could already picture the result. There was no way Kiba would just let this go.

As expected, the sound of clattering steel entered her ears followed by a dull thud. Her brows furrowed though. This wasn't the exact sound that she was expecting.

The sound of steel through flesh was closer to tearing than a thud. Glancing with her eyes, she saw that Valper was knocked out by the flat of Irina's blade while Kiba's had been parried to the side.

Soft hearted girl.

She could understand what Irina intended. She would let Valper be judged by the Vatican.

Grunting, she fingered the hilts of her swords as she decided that she couldn't remain and do nothing. After all, since the very start of this ordeal, it had been Shirou protecting them. And now that the Fallen Angels were in a stupor, this was an ideal chance that allowed her to lighten the pressure.

Staring coldly, she began the necessary preparations.

Durandal the Peerless.

Holy Sword of the Paladin, Roland of Charlemagne.

Its power alone could cleave the very mountains and split the waters of the rising tide.

 _Sword grant me strength._

Closing her eyes, she took the time to focus and gather the abundant Holy Energies in the two swords.

Now that she wasn't constantly under attack, she could unleash the strongest power of her swords.

Her arms came together, Durandal and Durandal X pressed by the flat of their blades.

A dim glow encompassed the both of them, growing in radiance by the second as the crackle of sparks began to reverberate. The asphalt beneath her feet began to crack and rive, the aura of the swords releasing itself in alternating waves.

Ever since Shirou had given her Durandal X, it was like she had suddenly grown wings. The unstable power of her Durandal was now maintained by evening the distribution of energies between two mediums, halving the difficulty.

Rias and the others backed away as the light energy produced was beginning to effect them.

A tremor ran through her arms as pulses of energy bathed her body in mots of glowing light. Her hair soon began to sway up from the force, seeming to float in the air as she finally opened her eyes and rose her arms over her head to strike.

However,

Her eyes quickly widened, and in the next moment, her body froze; the energy gathered for Durandal's attack fading away and leaving behind only a gentle hum.

"Xenovia?" Irina called out in alarm.

She didn't respond, instead, swallowing down the bout of nervousness that was beginning to bubble from within her.

"Ms. Quarta?" Rias too inquired.

After all, she had been just about to unleash a mighty attack on the enemies but halted for no reason whatsoever.

Instead of explaining, all she did was point out.

She had taken her eyes off of him from the sheer shock of seeing the Holy-Demonic sword shatter, and now that she had turned back to strike at his enemies, she could barely comprehend what was in front of her.

In the direction she was facing was Shirou, but more importantly, it was also the direction in which all Fallen Angels were facing.

There was something about him at the moment that caused shivers to run down her back.

"Shirou?" She called out to him in concern.

 _The flutter of wings,_

 _And a divine chorus that boomed from above._

When the noise entered her ears, it was if lightning had struck her, causing the questions she was about to ask to come up in a garbled mess. Her face flushed as a result, but she completely disregarded the raising heat on her cheeks when Shirou's gaze turned to her.

It was like he was an entirely different person. Those eyes seemed bottomless and all knowing; seeming to look right through her in her past moment of doubt and dismay.

Oddly enough, when that gaze landed on Irina and Asia, Shirou gave a nod before his attention focused back on her once more.

A smile appeared on that familiar face, but even though it was comforting, an even bigger part of her was beginning to panic as her unease sky rocketed. This wasn't the Shirou that she knew. T-Then what had happened to him?

But perhaps, even more than her, there was one person who was even more pressed to receive an answer.

"Y-You, who are you?!" Kokabiel stuttered, feigning calm by crossing his arms and glaring.

"Who am I?" The voice that came out of Shirou's mouth was different compared with the friend she knew. It was deep, yet gentle and soothing.

A voice which soon quelled the panic in her heart despite the oddity of the situation.

Yet to Kokabiel, the voice was anything but.

"Kokabiel, the Morning Star of the Kingdom in the Sky, have you truly forgotten?" A blaze of Holy Aura erupted around Shirou, shrouding him in a pale mist.

From the Heaven's expanse, seven pillars of resplendent light pierced through the void between dimensions; autonomous bodies of steel striking down against the earth like mighty hammers that produced a rain of fiery sparks.

The earth trembled, fissures forming on the ground from the sheer impact that caused Rias and the rest to stumble on their feet; tiny fragments of debris pelting against them and creating minor bruises and cuts. Yet none of them dared to even mutter a squeak.

 _Twelve Winged Sentinels. Relics of the Great War made in the fashion of the Steel Angel,_

 _The voice of God._

 _Metatron._

They stood with wings opened, explosive lances held at attention as they positioned themselves on either side of Shirou.

"I-Impossible!" Kokabiel could no longer hold his composure, his arms dropping to his side.

Winged-Sentinels would only obey the directive of one.

Staring at the light that enveloped Shirou, Kokabiel could only open his mouth blankly.

No more words were needed to be said.

After all.

" _When the clouds part, and heavenly light shines upon the world, all will know his name."_

* * *

Thanks for Reading


	15. Arc 2 End

Staring at the people in front of him, he couldn't help but feel awkward. Especially so when he was being stared at so fervently by a man and woman he had never even met before.

He, Xenovia, and Irina were inside the Occult Research Club as a result of the events of the previous day; something he could only recall half of as the rest involved his experience with a burning bush.

It was because of that experience itself that he was told of the purpose of his arrival. As it would turn out, the voice in the necklace around his neck was none other than the God said to have died in this world. However, it wasn't because of the Four Satans as the other Factions theorized, but because of the emergence of something else. During the course of the battle between God and the Four Satans, the clashing of their powers was able to pierce a hole between dimensions; causing a rift from which an image of a Grail emerged from within.

And so, a wish was spoken, and a mighty entity sealed within a vessel as a foreign power was released into the universe.

And this foreign power and influence was something Shirou was familiar with. For he had worked to stop it just before he was pulled into this world. The curse of the Tainted Grail, the filth left behind that twisted the wishes of all.

God wished for peace, but only afterwards did he realize what he had unleashed. A peace that would be born through the annihilation of all things. Yet he was too weak to stop it, a force sealing him within the Grail itself and dragging him away to a parallel world.

Shirou's world.

Even then, there were differences between what the worlds considered Gods. God in his world could be contended against by other factions and strong Devils, but the God in Shirou's world was unparalleled. An existence that couldn't be surpassed. Similarly, the tainted power God had unleashed on his world was stronger, and not something that could be dealt with without sufficient planning and power.

God needed a vessel to return, and Shirou had become that vessel with God's acknowledgment of his character. There was no right or wrong when it came to Shirou, just the need to help others and to save.

This was why Shirou spoke nothing when he was informed and instead remained silent. God was thankful because of this, and then went to explain other things.

Thinking back to it now, Shirou could only resolve himself to find the taint plaguing the world and put a stop to it with the help of God. After all, God's transmigration wasn't for nothing as a semblance of his world's God merged with the God of this world. This was why God knew of the Throne of Heroes, and was able to wield a power several times stronger than what God possessed before. With this strength, God was assured of victory with his help after fully gathering back his power.

Only, Shirou knew it wouldn't be that easy. The sense of unease he had felt upon seeing that abomination at the end of the Holy Grail War was not something to be taken lightly.

Still, he could deal with such thoughts later, for now, he would appreciate it if Xenovia and Irina could help shield him from the two in front of him. Instead though, the two sat a couple feet behind him, backs stiffened straight and gazes incredibly somber.

The two before him was a man named Michael and a woman named Gabriel.

The two wore normal clothes, but it was clear that even then, it was impossible to hide their stunning dispositions. Their skin was vibrant, a healthy tan glow, and they had eyes that spoke of their compassion so much so that it was blinding.

It wouldn't even be weird if the two could appear on fashion magazines.

However, that wasn't what was getting on his nerves, no; it was the both of them and the way everyone was treating him.

They looked like they were worshiping him. It was to the point where he was sure that even if he made an offhand joke, it would be taken completely seriously without question.

This was inevitable though as he heard about what happened. God had been instigated into action at the despair of his believers, and had used up the strength he had been gathering to temporarily take over his body.

God would not abandon those who believed in him.

"Uhm," he mumbled softly while wetting his suddenly dry lips. "You wanted to talk?" He ventured.

"Yes, that is exactly what we should be doing," Sirzechs Lucifer spoke while coughing into his hands to break Michael and Gabriel out of their stupor.

Sirzechs was Rias's older brother who had arrived as fast as possible upon discovering what had befallen Rias. He was almost a mirror image of Rias aside from his more masculine features and taller stature.

"We should be discussing about the coming peace negotiations, and a reimbursement for the Fallen Angels actions," Sirzechs said, his tone hard near the end.

"Azazel would do well to give us an explanation," Gabriel said absently, clearly not too bothered as Kokabiel's could be counted as a blessing in a way.

Their God had returned.

Elsewhere in the room, Xenovia and Irina sat off near the side as their direct superiors were before them. Therefore, they maintained silence as the leaders talked.

"Ah, yes," Michael seemed to snap out of it, but neither his gaze nor Gabriels's left Shirou's direction. "To discuss such things, I still think it would be best until the meeting actually begins. It wouldn't due to talk about it now without Azazel's presence anyway," he spoke uncharacteristically dismissive.

Sirzech's and mouth twitched. It was clear to see that nothing was more important in Michael and Gabriel's eyes right now than to stare at Shirou. Which meant to say that nothing significant would be produced as a result of this meeting.

Still, Sirzechs put up a smile as he could clearly understand the reason for Michael's change.

Signalling discreetly towards his aid in the room taking notes, Sirzechs and the aid soon left the room after cordial pleasantries; his priorities shifting towards his sibling. As a result, only Michael, Gabriel, Irina, Xenovia, and himself were left in the room.

"Father, is he doing well?" Gabriel ventured longingly.

Shirou nodded stiffly, his eyes glancing away lest he see something he shouldn't. After all, Gabriel was too alluring and already he could feel both Irina and Xenovia's piercing gazes from behind his back.

Seeing his answer, Gabriel's expression brightened, and she didn't ask anything else as she fell into silence.

Michael cleared his throat before speaking.

"As you may have had heard, we are having peace talks with the other factions in a couple of days. I know that you may not be Father right now, but your presence there would surely heighten any unease the other Angels may feel about the alliance. For this reason, I humbly implore you to attend this meeting. Can you do that?"

He thought about it for a moment, but in the end, he agreed.

"Thanks," Michael said. "For the time being though, it would be best if you remained in Kuoh as this is the exact location of the meeting. Besides," Michael stared at the Seven Twelve-Winged Sentinels standing guard outside. "I'm sure that with your protection nothing would befall you."

Gabriel's eyes widened innocently. "Michael? but I thought you were thinking of assigning an entire platoon of-"

"Ah, Gabriel, didn't you have a business trip you had to go to?" Michael interrupted forcefully. "Still extra protection wouldn't be detrimental. After all, we don't know what those other powers may do after the news eventually spreads. Which is why it is necessary for you to go on that trip Gabriel."

Gabriel pouted. "That's not fair brother," she complained. "We just discovered that Father is still alive and you want me to leave to talk with those old bats?"

Michael did not meet Gabriel's gaze. Instead, he asked a request of Shirou while bowing.

"Can you tell Father that I'm sorry," Michael spoke solemnly, eyes drooping downward. "Under my rule, numerous brother and sisters have died. Even members of the Seraphim."

"Michael, it's not your fault," Gabriel said, but Michael didn't react to it.

"Please," Michael insisted.

Staring at Michael's earnest expression, Shirou quickly agreed, watching as Michael left along with a reluctant Gabriel. The two archangels getting ready to make preparation for the peace talks.

For a moment, no one moved in the room, but the rustling of fabric let him know when Xenovia and Irina did. They walked in front of him awkwardly, not knowing how they should address him.

"I'm still me," he said. "Nothings really changed."

Irina smiled hearing his words, the awkward atmosphere fading.

It was in this situation that Xenovia suddenly kneeled on the ground and bowed, hitting her forehead against the floor.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm sorry, my faith wavered," Xenovia said solemnly. "It won't happen again."

Saying that, it was as if a burden was lifted from Xenovia's shoulders, her expression easing to its normal calm. Although, the way she looked at him only grew more fervent as if she had decided on something.

"Shirou," she said, before fumbling for something in the bag she carried. At this moment, she appeared demure, a stark contrast to her cold expression he and Irina were normally accustomed to seeing.

"Hmm?" He hummed curiously.

"We should start practicing soon right?" Xenovia spoke clearly while pulling out a condom. "Efficiency can only increase with sufficient training."

"X-Xenovia you, h-how bold," Irina stuttered, her face blushing a shade of crimson that did not appear natural.

"Of course," Xenovia grunted out. "As the husband I must be prepared. Well Shirou? Shirou?"

In front of Xenovia and Irina was an empty seat, the man in question long gone as his enhanced eye sight deduced what Xenovia was attempting to find.

Running outside of the Occult Research Club building, Shirou could feel a cold sweat down his back as he felt as if he had just dodged a bullet. He couldn't understand it. How was Xenovia still the same girl he had first met by the Church Creek? The one that was known to be cold towards others?

Still, despite running away from the problem, he was happy that she was beginning to break out of her shell.

For the time being though he found a quiet place to just think.

Fiddling with the necklace around his neck, he couldn't help but ponder about what happened at that time in the previous day.

* * *

 _Bell like chimes echoed out into the distance, the sound like ancient melodies that played upon better memories._

 _A time before calamity and enmity plagued the world._

 _Kokabiel and his legion of Fallen Angels cowered back step by step. Figures trembling at the sight before them._

 _Grand, majestic, a palace in the sky seemed to reveal itself; spires of white tile and granite forming a castle that tore apart the clouds. Its walls were the colour of ivory, the structure leading towards a conical tiled roof with a cross erected at the top._

 _Following its emergence, were buildings of stone and a large gate that acted as a guard. From in front of the gate, a tiled stone path connected itself to six other palaces. Each as magnificent as the first, although all appearing ordinary in make._

 _The Seven Heavens of the Kingdom in the sky._

 _Each's ramparts were lined with traces of gold tint, an army of angels looking down from above._

 _It was the first complete mobilization of Heaven's forces since the end of the Great War of the Factions._

 _At the head, was a twelve-winged angel with golden feathers, the Archangel Michael of the Seraphim. He was a tall and slightly thin man with long blond hair that framed his face and swept down his back. Known for his kindness and compassion, the man's face reflected it: Masculine and soft features that always made him appear amicable. As such, it was expected for his disposition to be more confident, yet the perpetual slant of his brows since the end of the Great War always made him appear sad, and only a few would understand why._

 _To his right, was another twelve-winged angel, Gabriel of the Seraphs. A beauty of a woman with long curly hair that fell evenly down the sides of her face; her large round eyes were the colour of emeralds. Matched with her demure appearance and innocent personality, she was sought after by many; yet in this instance her demure appearance was replaced with agitation. Like a lost child in a market._

 _Gold mantles were worn over each of their shoulders. Lavish and engraved with crystal ornaments and patterns. Beneath, was a red Cossack with tails of white fabric dyed yellow in the image of the cross._

 _Behind them were rows and rows of Angels wearing gowns of pale fabric._

 _Filling the night sky, their sheer radiance bathed the area in a light no different from day._

 _All this, and all at the behest of the heated rallying of what was left of the Seraphim._

 _The two knew it was a breach in the peace treaty between Factions to openly invade a Devil's territory, but they had done so anyway; their emotions in turmoil after the stirring of the Seventh Heaven, 'his,' abode._

 _Backs straight, and expressions of anxiety on their faces, Michael and Gabriel who stood at the front, didn't even seem to put Kokabiel in their eyes despite the many times they had met in the past._

 _Both were staring fixedly at one individual._

 _The back that protected them no longer looked the same, but that gentleness of his aura would never change in their hearts._

 _"_ _Father," they had whispered lowly, Gabriel placing a hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs that were threatening to burst out from her chest._

 _Michael was different in that he just froze. The constant sadness in his brows shifting gradually as his pale blue eyes began to well with unshed grievances._

 _The words the two Seraphim had spoken had been enough to thoroughly stun the others watching the spectacle, but they did not appear to have any effect on that man._

 _He didn't even turn around to acknowledge them. Instead, those clear eyes of his remained fixed at Kokabiel and the rest of the Fallen Angels, hands balled into fists._

 _Befitting of their wings, the twelve-winged sentinels stepped forward; their power alone enough to deal with several dozen Fallen Angels._

 _As none of the Fallen Angels even had the power of Twelve-Wings, it would surely be a slaughter. There was just no question about it, and the Fallen Angels knew this. Some already resigning themselves._

 _Yet a single hand stopped the Twelve-Winged Sentinels approach._

 _"_ _From birth, I gave you light," the man spoke slowly, the baritone of his voice sending chills down the Fallen Angels backs. "With a word, the earth trembles. With a thought, the very waters part to my will._ I _gave you light," the man repeated again, eyes downcast in sorrow. "And I can take it away."_

 _Slowly, the weapons held in the hands of the Fallen Angels began to dissipate, fading away as if they were never there. Kokabiel was no different; the energies he had once been harnessing no longer able to maintain shape._

 _"_ _Father," Kokabiel spat scathingly, yet he didn't dare to do anything else. Without his ability to utilize light, he was no different from a rebellious child._

 _"_ _Kneel," the voice was hard, and disciplinary. Leaving no room for argument._

 _It was like a force suddenly pushed down on the Fallen Angel's shoulders; pulling them down from their lofty heights to stand amongst mortals on the ground._

 _"_ _You, all of you. Do you not feel regret?"_

 _Once the question was raised, none of the Fallen Angels dared stare at that man's gaze aside from Kokabiel._

 _"_ _You plunder, you kill, and then relish in it. Can you not see what it is that you've all become?"_

 _"_ _You all have Fallen, but where did the principles that you were all raised by go?"_

 _The man furrowed his brows and remained silent while staring at the ruined battlefield. "You all wish to restart the War, but don't you understand that that would mean once again killing your very own brothers and sisters? That time has already passed."_

 _Kokabiel only sneered in response to the words spoken, prompting the Angels watching to stare in contempt._

 _The man saw this clearly and sighed._

 _"_ _Child, are you unsatisfied with my words?" The man asked._

 _Kokabiel didn't even need to answer for others to understand._

 _Taking one step, then two, the man stopped before Kokabiel._

 _The man then waved his hand, a sword of light taking shape in Kokabiel's hands that thoroughly stunned the Fallen Angel Leader._

 _"_ _Then quell your anger, and strike me down," the man spoke._

 _"_ _F-Father no!" Gabriel who had been watching silently with the others couldn't hold it in any longer and screamed in protest as she acted out. Yet she was restrained by Michael, the one who was most loyal and devote._

 _"_ _Michael! Let me go!" Gabriel insisted in a panic. However, nothing she did despite her power could free her form Michael's grasp. "Please," she pleaded. Yet as she turned towards him, she shivered before falling silent after seeing the sheer coldness in Michael's eyes, and the blankness of his face._

 _If Kokabiel did attack, then Michael would erupt in fury._

 _Michael would never forgive Kokabiel. And honestly speaking, the neutrality he had maintained would probably erupt in flames, and War would start anew._

 _Clearly, Kokabiel knew this as he stared at the sword of light in his hands, and then to the tense atmosphere surrounding the Angels and Fallen Angels._

 _Kokabiel hesitated for once, recalling the days he had once spent with the man before him in the Heavens. The respect he had for the man was still there even in his madness._

 _Kokabiel's mind told him to strike. To grasp firmly to the sword in his hands and just stab forward to complete his objective. But his body wouldn't listen._

 _Because he realized that he couldn't do it. Even if Kokabiel hated the man before him, was it truly the case when his hands holding the sword were trembling?_

 _Kakabiel hadn't been the one to kill God. That, was said to have had been done by the Four Great Satans of old. And now that he was in a similar position. His body refused to do it. Just as a child argues and bickers with the father, no child could truly bring themselves to kill their parent without feeling anything._

 _He was Kokabiel, the Morning Star of Heaven, now Fallen. Staring into those unflinching eyes, his thoughts wandered to a time before his fall. When rows upon rows of Angels, brothers and sisters, welcomed his glorious return._

 _The woman of his fall was already gone. The desire and lust he had once felt fading away as he indulged in earthly pleasures. Yet in the end, his bed was empty, and himself unfulfilled. It was why he desired war. It was where he shone his brightest, and the only place where he could once again look upon the ancient splendor of the Kingdom in the sky._

 _When he had first been informed of God's death, he was elated. As it was expected, the Angels of Heaven grew furious, lashing out at both sides and the casualties increasing._

 _He himself contributed to those casualties much like his superior, Azazel. But in the end, all sides grew weary, and the war settled upon a tenuous peace._

 _Kokabiel had killed before. Indulged in it even._

 _Yet now that Kokabiel had the chance to kill the leader of it all, his mind suddenly wavered staring into those un-accusing eyes. It seemed that whatever Kokabiel did would be forgiven; even the most heinous of sins. Because after all, Fallen or not, they were still sons and daughters in that man's eyes._

 _It was this gaze that caused many Fallen Angels to flee at the Father's presence. An unspeakable guilt clouding their thoughts even before the Father could neutralize their light. This was precisely why battle only fully broke out between Fallen Angels and Angels after the Father's death._

 _Because the Father would accept them regardless._

 _Kakbiel's mouth twitched before he stabbed the sword of light in his hand into the ground much to Gabriels's relief. Turning around with his shoulder's hunched, Kokabiel would then speak the words that would end the conflict for the time being._

 _"_ _We're going," he said._

* * *

 **Thanks for Reading!**

 **This weeks chapter and next weeks chapter will be shorter chapters compared to the others as all my finals are in this week and the next, and most of my attention will be going there. It's too hard to write anything good while stressing about mark performance in tests, but afterwards, I will be able to write more during the break to make up for it**

 **P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious**


	16. The Sword and the Underworld: Part 1

"Ms Quarta, for the last time, I think you have to understand that there's a problem in your application as a student."

Within the principal's office of Kuoh Academy, the principal, a young lady with curly brown hair and short stature pinched the bridge of her nose before sighing. The silver short-rimmed glasses she wore were soon placed back over her face, and she then leveled a cursory glance back at the object of her latest migraine.

Xenovia furrowed her brows in consternation, seemingly not understand the concept the principal had already explained numerous times.

To be fair, this was actually Xenovia's first time attempting to attend an educational facility, and it wasn't even because she wanted to. It was because she _had_ to in order to keep Shirou company.

Shirou would be spending his day in Kuoh Academy, and all formalities were already settled for him with the cover Griselda had provided previously. As for her, she had none, and thus had to take a more formal approach to temporarily attend the Academy. Irina though, had it the easiest; having had a residence near Kuoh in her youth, she was quickly accepted already. Thus, Xenovia was the only one left.

By attending, Kuoh would give Xenovia a reason to stick close to Shirou, and at the same time, avoid being 'politely' asked to leave by Kuoh Academy's staff for visiting on school hours.

Besides, with the location of the peace talks between the factions to be held in Kuoh, Shirou had to attend as he held a very distinct position. His presence there alone would be far more than enough to reveal Heaven's sincerity as it was quite clear for Xenovia to see just how reluctant the Angels still felt about it. Yet they still did so anyway. To them, Shirou was the most important, and if not for Michael's decision to leave him in Kuoh, Heaven and the Church and its representatives would have swooped in and relocated him to some place else. An area heavily fortified with the strongest of defenses with even twelve-winged angels to act as guards.

With so much protection, Irina had already joked once that nothing could hurt Shirou now. Yet to others who heard it, it was to be taken as a warning. Just the fact that Heaven would go to such an extent for a single individual could mean that if even so much as a hair were to be lost from Shirou, there would be a world of trouble.

"Now, Ms-"

"Mrs." Xenovia coughed into her hand, interrupting the woman.

The principal no longer bothered to reply to such comments and instead clasped her hand in front of her.

"You have to understand Mrs. Quarta, but you can't become a student with this kind of loose background."

Xenovia rose a brow.

The principal held up the file in her hand and slowly read some content.

"Under Previous Education, you filled out 'by a Demon,' under Past Accommodations, you filled out 'Hell.'" The principal paused, seeming to look for a reaction from Xenovia, but just from Xenovia's expression alone, it didn't seem as if she found anything wrong with her answers.

A twitch nearly formed over the principal's mouth, but she persisted in schooling her features.

"Care to explain?" The principal asked.

Taking a moment to think, Xenovia furrowed her brows before replying. "I took lessons from my mother. Her method of teaching could have had only come from a Demon, so I put down Demon. As for Past Accommodations, I was perpetually under my mother's care and every day was spent in suffering training at home. The only escape was at a little Church by a creek in Italy."

"…Okay then," the Principal was on the verge of just giving up. Still she persisted.

"Alright then, lets just move on." The principal took a breath, taking off her glasses to rub her eyes. "The fact that you only want to attend Physical Exercise courses while skimping the rest of the academic courses is troubling. Do you not wish to enter any sort of career?"

Xenovia nodded her head sagely in all seriousness, thinking of the life ahead of her. "I'll take my chances," she spoke with conviction, balling her hands into fists.

Silence filled the room as the principal just stared.

This silence didn't break until a new voice entered the room.

"I can take it from here," the voice spoke.

"M-Ms. Shitori," the principal seemed to exhale in relief, quickly giving way to Sona who was more in charge of Kuoh than even the principle. After all, the principle knew just who owned the facility. "Then if you'll excuse me," the principle quickly left the room.

Sona walked in under Xenovia's gaze, and then promptly took a seat where the principal had once been. Sone then picked up Xenovia's file in her hand and abstained from questioning any of the other material written.

Instead, Sona just looked carefully at Xenovia whose shoulders had become tense from the silence.

It was evident that Xenovia was feeling awkward as she wasn't exactly the most disposed towards Devils, but after the previous events she was at least warming up to them. However, she hadn't exactly had much dealings with Sona, thus, her expression was somewhat strained.

This was why it came off as a bit of surprise when Sona approved Xenovia's application.

"Devil's aren't actually like the monsters in the movies. We're people too," Sona spoke, handing Xenovia her required papers.

Staring at the papers, Xenovia accepted silently.

"Thanks," Xenovia eventually whispered when Sona was almost out the door.

A small smile tugged on Sona's lips. In which case she then whispered,

"Welcome to Kuoh."

* * *

The gazes of those around Shirou were beginning to affect him.

He was currently in Kuoh walking around its campus right after class hours, and he had to admit that he somehow missed this kind of setting. Groups of youths and students crowded the campus in a youthful sort of vigor; some of the girls nearby were even whispering to each other in heated conversations, their attention on him. Fortunately, he was too busy feeling sensitive to the 'other' more intense stares on his person.

From the edges of his vision, he could see the flutter of white wings fading in and out of sight. Elsewhere, he spotted the metal visages of the Twelve-Winged Sentinels now located throughout Kuoh Academy. In this way, they were acting as twenty-four hour sentries, keeping watch for any enemies.

They were in plain sight, but it was fortunate that Kuoh Academy's students thought of them as new statues to revamp Kuoh's image. Some were even lining themselves up to take photos, much to Irina's ire who was in a fluster attempting to persuade the students to stop. It didn't have much effect though as Irina was wearing the Church's white cloak. In which case, many of Kuoh's students assumed she was cosplaying and began posing with her as well. This left her in a desolate state, but at least there was someone else to share her pain.

Asia Argento had a hand over Irina's shoulder as the both of them lamented the fact that such distinguished Twelve-Winged Sentinel were being reduced to photo props. It became even worse when Shirou noticed how agitated the Angels in the background were getting. Some not even caring if they were seen by Shirou anymore in their indignance.

Luckily, someone else moved before them.

"You bastards, go away!" Issei yelled, spurred to action after seeing the expression on Asia's face.

Running forward, Issei's shouts seemed to have no effect until his original honest intentions shifted towards staring hard at the bosoms of the women posing by the winged sentinels.

"P-Perv!"

Shirou couldn't identify just who shouted out first, but since Kuoh mainly consisted of girls, the response was immediate. All the women that had once been posing by the winged sentinels gave chase to Issei who quickly ran away. This left behind just the male students, and with Asia's and Irina's insistence, the guys were quick to leave, a happy and dumb look on their faces after talking to two beauties.

Seeing this, Shirou only paused in his steps towards Irina for a moment before deciding that she was in good hands and resumed towards his intended location.

It was towards the Occult Research Club of Kuoh Academy.

Rias Gremory was waiting for him at the front.

Her arms were crossed under her chest, and she was still looking at him with a bit of caution. Yet different from before, she had a sense of respect in her eyes that wasn't there before. Before it was fear, thus, it was a significant improvement.

"Kiba's in the back room," Rias said politely. "Akeno, if you would."

Akeno Himeji nodded from inside the building.

"If you would follow me," Akeno beckoned towards Shirou.

Shirou complied with a nod, entering into the Occult Research building as Rias closed the door behind them. She then followed by his side afterwards.

He had come to the occult research club at the request of Kiba who seemed to have something in his mind these days. Even Rias had taken notice, and this was why she along with Issei had urged for Shirou to meet with Kiba under the scrutinizing gazes of those Angels Michael had subtly planted. That alone showed their courage as even he could feel the intimidation from more than four ten-Winged Angels.

"So," Akeno began in the silence, earning a sharp glance from Rias who was demonstrating the demeanour of an heiress.

Akeno ignored Rias instead, smiling. "Does the attention feel nice?" She said knowingly.

"No. Not at all," Shirou readily admitted. "It's a bit stifling."

Akeno nodded towards Rias, who ended up sighing and reverting to her normal attitude.

"Admittedly its hard to keep up this demeanour," Rias said. "I hope the leader of the skies of above could forgive me?"

"No, no, I prefer it this way," Shirou said scratching the back of his head. "It still hasn't sunken in yet about how everyone now views me. Was my discomfort that easy to tell?"

Akeno only nodded, while Rias finally cracked a grin.

Rias and Akeno eventually lead Shirou into the back-room Rias had specified, only for Shirou to realize that this back room was more of a training space. Everywhere was devoid of furniture, all that was left were a few wooden targets and training equipment on the side.

At the room's center stood Kiba, holding in his hands a sword of Light and Dark. This should have had been impossible, but it was right before him due to the absence of God now residing within the necklace.

Kiba met Shirou's gaze, and almost instantly the guy knelt on his knees and bowed his head.

"Thank you. Y-You saved them," he spoke lowly, his eyes moistening. "I swear that I will repay this debt someday."

Rias moved towards Kiba and placed a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to get back up on his feet, but Kiba refused. This was Kiba's show of sincerity, yet all it did was make Shirou uncomfortable.

He knew exactly what Kiba was thanking him for. It was because of the girl and the others he had set free from the light crystal he had obtained in the battle against Valper Galilei. Not only did setting them free help those souls find salvation, but they had aslo given salvation to Kiba who was tormenting himself for their sake.

However, Shirou would never hold anything over anyone's heads. He could take Kiba's promise of repaying the debt at face value, but he wouldn't actually want Kiba to feel obligated to. Be that as it may, just by staring at Kiba, he could deduce that any answer other than a yes may very well keep the teenager on the ground.

"I understand," Shirou eventually spoke. "Please, stand up on your feet. It was only the right thing for me to do."

Hearing his words, Kiba stared up at him, and nodded in determination. "By this sword, I swear an oath."

Raising the sword of Holy and Demonic up into the air, Kiba stabbed it into the ground in front of him.

Afterwards, Kiba's gaze landed squarely on him, seemingly at a loss for what he wanted to say next.

"Excalibur," Kiba eventually muttered. "It's in your hands now?"

Shirou nodded his head but didn't elaborate anymore. By this point, Excalibur was almost completely fused back together, just missing a single fragment before completion. By then, anyone would be able to tell the sheer amount of Holy Power the sword contained. At that point, it was just the specifics involved in how to unsheathe it from its scabbard.

"Good," Kiba's expression showed visible relief. "At least with you, I wouldn't have to worry about any misuses."

"Ahem," Rias cleared her throat. "You're talking about the man that's caused another sort of disaster, but it wouldn't be appropriate to address it now." She shook her head towards Shirou's questioning expression. "Perhaps after the peace talks," she finished.

The matter Rias was referring to had to do with the Divine Construct of Sumerian Origin that had been felt by the God's within Babylon that Shirou was ignorant of. However, Rias knew that it would be brought up eventually, and there be better representatives to explain such a complex political thing to Shirou.

With Kiba's matter done, Shirou spent the rest of the time talking about various other matters within the Occult Research Club, much to the ire of the Angels assigned to be guarding him.

* * *

When Shirou eventually got left the Occult Research Club, it was already nearing midnight. The clouds over head were like wisps of smoke, streaking slowly across the moon-lit sky.

Xenovia and Irina weren't with him at the moment as Xenovia had excused herself for her own matters and Irina had taken it upon herself to bring up the matter of the Winged Sentinels to Rias and Sona.

This left him alone to walk home with an escort of Angels he knew were just keeping their distance from him.

Ever since the events caused by Valper Galilei concluded, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Ayakoji. The man seemed as if he had just disappeared, and that he had never even lived in the modest home Shirou was currently staying at.

Because of this, he had even gone to inspect the warehouse he had last seen Ayakoji at, but there were no traces of anything there. No blood, no damage, just an empty room no different from all the others in the area.

It left him feeling a tad dumbstruck that the man would just leave without a word, but he supposed that Ayakoji would have his reasons. And besides, he could bring the matter up with Griselda if the time came.

For now, he just wanted to rest.

The peace meeting would be in a couple days, and in that time period he had been spending most of his time getting adjusted to all the new people he met in Kuoh. One of which he almost instinctually decided to stay away from when he noticed the difference in her gaze compared to the rest, for it was fairly below the belt.

He would stay away from that girl. That was a point he could agree with with Issei, and his two other friends that composed the Perverted Trio.

Just as the home he was staying within appeared in sight, an odd fluctuation in the air caught his attention. It was a difference in magical energies, an acute one in which he had picked up due to the sensitivity of his nose.

However, he acted as if he didn't notice. After all, if he was the target, any sudden movement may incur a reaction from the other party.

Meanwhile, the necklace around his neck was still silent. After its past action of taking him into that cave with the burning bush, he was told that God would be entering a silent state to gather his energies together and fortify his foundations. In this way, God would, for the most part, recuperate from his injuries incurred in the battle between the four Satans.

This meant, that though everyone now viewed him as the next coming of God, God himself would not be able to reveal himself until a certain time. From there, he could ask God on any leads on this Evil he had unleashed. Till then, he would just have to adapt to whatever's throne his way.

Walking down the road, he saw a man appear walking on the opposite side. Spiked, but soft locks of silver hair jutted out from a handsome looking face. The facial features glowing in the moonlight: narrow jaw, high cheek bones, and stunningly blue eyes.

The man wore a black hoodie with a high collar on his person, a black v-neck beneath leading towards faded and baggy pants.

From the way that this man was looking at him, he instantly felt the battle intent the other person was releasing even without words of acknowledgment.

As he drew closer, this feeling only grew stronger, reaching its peak when they were just about to cross each other's paths.

"Can a Dragon Kill a God? We'll have to see someday," the man whispered while walking past.

For a moment, he just stood there trying to decide if what he had just seen was an illusion or not. After all, for a moment, that man's shadow seemed to extend itself into the appearance of a large winged reptile.

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to ponder over the meaning of the man's words. Instead, he picked up his pace towards his temporary home.

Once at the front of the household, he already knew something was wrong from the moment the Angels assigned to protect him stopped concealing themselves and appeared in front of him, blocking his path.

Thereafter, they looked cautiously towards the half-open front door of his temporary home.

A trace of anger filled his gaze when he realized that the elderly couple sharing their home may have had gotten involved in something that was unrelated to them. Because of this, he insisted he go in.

He expected for such a request to be refused at first, but he didn't expect just how much influence he had gained with the Angels that had seen the ending of the incident caused by Valper Galilei. They easily buckled beneath his insistence, but there was one point they refused to give up on.

Who got to go in first.

In which case, all those Angels sent to protect him were adamant that they would act as the Vanguard.

Cautiously, the Angels entered in as one, only to suddenly freeze when they got a good look inside the main living space; the colour of their wings shifting violently from white to black.

Feeling as if something big had happened, Shirou readied himself for action as he then pushed his way into the house.

What lay before him though, was a man staring fixedly at a the T.V. screen located at the center of the living room.

The man was tall and appeared to be in his twenties. He had an average build, black hair, golden bangs and a black goatee, making him appear like rugged gentleman. On his person he wore a casual blue yukata as he relaxed and made himself at home on one of the recliners. Yet, perhaps what was the most eye catching at the moment was something else that only Shirou knew of.

Ayakoji's stash of home edited videos was to this mysterious man's left. The video playing on screen causing Shirou's and the Angels faces to flush red.

Shirou didn't know how Ayakoji had done it, but he had somehow taken Gabriel's face and superimposed it onto another actresses'. Already, Gabriel was known as Heaven's top beauty, and to see her face in such a movie, many of the Angel's were heavily being tempted to fall.

"Whoever made this was a fucking genius!" The man praised in worship as he noticed the room was no longer empty with just himself.

At that moment, the man turned around and saw the shifting wings of the Angels, and his smile couldn't be anymore gleeful.

"Come brothers and sisters, Fall. You'll all never get enough of this life, I swear!" The man encouraged.

"Y-You, shut up!" One of the Angels spoke in outrage. "T-To watch such a fabricated thing, how immoral."

The man rose a brow hearing the Angel's words. "Then why are you watching?"

"…"

The man laughed roaringly, throwing an arm over the shoulder of the Angel that had spoken. Said Angel's wings were already stuck at a shade of grey that was nearly black.

"Y-You stop!" The other Angels spoke.

Fortunately, Shirou ended the entire matter by pulling the plug on the T.V.

Sighing in relief, the Angels all glared dagger at the man in the room.

Based on their expression, Shirou deduced that both sides already knew each other. This left only himself out of the loop. Therefore, he asked the question that had been on his mind since the beginning.

"Who are you?" He asked.

The man paused after hearing the question.

Soon after, the man slicked back his hair, and stared straight at Shirou.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," the man spoke jovially, a suave smile on his face. "My name is Azazel, Governor General of the Fallen Angels."

* * *

 **Thanks for Reading!**

 **P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious**

 **Next update: The Vasto of white**


	17. The Sword and the Underworld: Part 2

Shirou could hardly believe what happened next after that man's introduction, because Azazel completely ignored him in favour of walking past him to attempt to reconnect the T.V. to the power outlet.

The Angels immediately intervened.

"You perverse crow," a female Angel spoke, her cheeks flaring red at Azazel's actions. "T-To disregard the Lord for a T.V. set, have you no shame!"

The other Angels moved to restrain Azazel, but it was clear that their level of strength was magnitudes apart from Azazel as Azazel easily moved towards the T.V. with the Angels still clinging onto his person.

"Come now, brothers and sister, are you not curious too? Why then would you not use your Light to restrain me?" Azazel laughed as he shrugged off the Angels clinging to him.

The sole red faced female Angel couldn't even splutter out a response before she glared at her own brothers whose gazes refused to meet hers. Indeed, if they had just utilized their Light to enhance their abilities, then it was certain that several Angels would have had been able to subdue Azazel who hadn't been using any of his twelve-winged power at all.

"Shame on you all!" The female Angel spoke, balling her hands into fists as she very nearly stormed out of the room. However, she paused when she realized that Shirou was still there.

Eyes narrowing, she raised a hand and aimed it straight at the blue-ray player.

Azazel's eyes widened comically.

"No! To tarnish the work of a Genius, how cruel!" Azazel immediately lunged forward protectively in front of the player. Yet this action only increased the amount of light energy gathering in the female Angel's hands.

"At least let me make a copy," Azazel hastily spoke.

Yet unexpectedly, before the female Angel could act, the male Angels seemed to have come to an agreement and pinned the female Angel down.

"B-Brothers!" Azazel exclaimed in heart felt gratitude. "This debt, I will repay it on my life."

"Shut up!" The female Angel spoke before pouting at the other Angels blocking her. "What the hell is wrong with you all?!"

Stone faced, those Angels recited the words of the Father. "Treat others as you would treat yourself," they said. Although it was clear that they were feeling rather guilty as they couldn't meet her eyes.

However, their words were true, and knowing that Shirou was looking at her, the female Angel felt flustered. Indeed, the Lord had once said to treat others as you would treat yourself, and destroying someone else's property was surely a violation. Especially if she considered Michael's words about who Shirou was.

The Light in the female Angel's hands died down before she reluctantly crossed her arms and leaned her back against a wall, a peeved expression over her face.

Shirou considered this as he walked up to Azazel who had just finished copying the video. Azazel then placed all his attention on Shirou.

"Well, that was a little embarrassing, but I'm sure you should understand," Azazel said grinning while suggestively moving his eyebrows.

Shirou's expression was not amused. He had enough of such expressions from Ayakoji, and to see something so similar from Azazel was eerily disturbing.

"Did you need something?" He eventually asked when he lead Azazel to speak privately at one of the guest rooms. Keeping the Angels near the man was surely a bad idea with the way they were already. "I wouldn't think that someone calling themselves a Governor General would just spontaneously come looking for me without a motive."

Azazel nodded his head.

"That's for certain," Azazel said.

The man then fell quiet as he watched Shirou pour the two of them each a cup of tea to drink before sitting across from him on the small center table at the middle of the room.

"So?" Shirou inquired, straightening his back while keeping his vigilance towards Azazel.

"As you may know, there's a peace conference to be held in Kuoh in a couple days time. I just happen to be the one out of the three factions that had proposed such a thing," Azazel said wearily.

Shirou listened silently, and waited for Azazel to continue after the man emptied his cup of tea.

"Fallen Angels, surely you know how they become that way?" Azazel began in a small tone.

From what Shirou knew, Fallen Angels were Angels that Fell because of their lust, greed, or other such emotion pulling them towards acting in a manor that they shouldn't. He then expressed this view to Azazel.

"Indeed," Azazel agreed. "Because of this, our numbers were always quite stagnant, as most Angels are steadfast and refuse to Fall. With the emergence of the War Between the Factions, a great majority of my brethren would never be able to enjoy a woman or man again. In simple terms, too much of us had died."

Azazel leaned backwards and used his hands to support his weight as he stared out towards the moonlit night through a window.

"Unlike the Angels and the Devils, it's hard for us Fallen to recuperate the numbers we've lost. As such, the brothers and sisters who've thrown their lives away over such a petty matter that I can hardly recall the cause of anymore, would only turn in their graves should our entire race die out. For such a means, an alliance to stop all this fighting is truly necessary. It was just that not everyone on my side could see it, Kokabiel being a prime example."

As soon as Azazel spoke Kokabiel's name, Shirou could easily see the thoughtful expression that crossed Azazel's face before he brushed it off with a small gesture.

"Therefore, this alliance must succeed," Azazel finished.

Shirou poured the man another cup of tea before resuming his position sitting across from Azazel.

"And what does that have to do with me?" He asked.

Azazel smiled. "It's quite simple really. It's because of what you are, and the importance that Micheal places on you. I could hardly believe he was still the same Angel when I saw him last. That perpetual slant of his brows was almost non-existent. Instead, it was replaced by a brilliance I had not seen in eons. Even if I'm a Fallen, that's still my brother you know? So, thanks on his behalf."

Shirou nodded, feeling the sincerity in Azazel's tone.

"In any case, any favour to you would immediately be a favour to Michael," Azazel grinned slyly, a small chuckle coming from his mouth. "Thereby increasing the odds of success of this alliance, though the Devils may need a little more convincing. Luckily. I've already made plans for that," Azazel said cryptically while flashing a Gremory calling card in front of Shirou. "I'm sure that I can win over this Issei Hyoudo some time soon."

"…I see," Shirou said. "And what exactly is it that you have in mind for me?"

Azazel shrugged his shoulders.

"As a show of good will from me, there's a place I'd like to take you sometime soon," Azazel said slowly after downing his cup of tea and it placing it back down. "I'm sure that Michael and Gabriel will agree, but for now I have a far more important question."

Azazel motioned for Shirou to come closer so the man could whisper into his ear.

Silently, Azazel whispered a chain of words into Shirou's ears that sounded the most serious the man had been all night. Azazel's expression grew even more restless when he pulled something from out of his pockets.

"Who was the Genius who made this video?"

* * *

Shirou did his best to repress the final memories of the previous night. After all, after the serious talk, Azazel became increasingly laid back to the point he found it prudent that he should implore his vast experience with the opposite gender towards Shirou. Nothing was missed in that lecture, and the majority of the content was how to please a woman. The worse part of it was just how seriously Azazel conveyed every word; not letting Shirou leave until he could recite each word back by heart much to the female Angel's appalment when she discovered what was going on and lost all her reservations.

He buried the memory at the back of his mind and slowly made his way to Kuoh for another day of school.

Only, he bumped into a person he hadn't seen in a couple days.

"Xenovia," he said in surprise, seeing the Kuoh Academy uniform she was wearing.

The Kuoh Academy's female blazer appeared tight over Xenovia's chest, and it only became even more apparent since the middle of the blazer was an open space in the chest area alone. It was sleeveless, and was white patterned with gold linings running up and down the fabric. With the way shoulders were padded, the general look made Shirou do a double-take just to verify that it was really Xenovia.

After all, the short skirt she wore revealed her pale long legs beneath which was in stark contrast to the white cloak she normally wore. Therefore, it was a novel sight.

"You became a student?" He said in bewilderment. As far as he knew, they weren't supposed to be staying in Kuoh for that long.

She nodded, revealing a dazzling smile.

Dimples formed on her face, and the way she looked at him made him feel self-conscious after thinking about her past actions. She wasn't able to smile like this before, let alone be as sociable as she was now. All things considered, it was a positive change. Now if only she would learn to be like this with other people.

Instead, she gave off a cold disposition whenever she met anyone new, and only her acquaintances could break it.

"It was a long, and difficult endeavor," Xenovia spoke off-handedly, matching her pace with his to stand by his side. "An achievement I do not wish to speak of at this moment. Instead, I only look forward to the reward."

Xenovia's lips thinned while speaking, her brows furrowing as she avoided the topic in monotone.

"Is that so," he said, dropping the matter before smiling. "What reward?"

Xenovia paused in her steps, staring hard at him as if he she couldn't understand why he had even asked that.

She then shook her head as a smile tugged on her lips. This was exactly how Shirou was.

"There is something of importance that I must admit," Xenovia began while placing a hand to her chest. "I have devoted my life and body in the name of the Lord, and although my faith had wavered, I still do. Therefore, I asked myself, what is it that's expected of me? To be reserved and compassionate like an ideal devote woman, or to be true to myself? The answer came to me after seeing you fight."

Xenovia nodded her head before making sure her gaze was locked with Shirou.

Detecting the seriousness of the matter, Shirou gave Xenovia all of his attention.

"I chose to be myself," Xenovia said after a long moment. "I had already asked this from Rias about what makes a Devil a Devil, but her definition is 'one who gives in to their desires and grants desires.' When she said so, I had resolved myself to be the ideal devote women, but then I remembered God accepts all. Thus, there is no such thing as an ideal devote woman."

Xenovia crossed her arms while an expression of knowing appeared in her eyes as if she had received enlightenment.

"Therefore, I alone will be the woman I decide to be, and as such, I have decided to follow what my heart tells me. I want to create life, to be a woman fulfilled. But I don't want that life to just be just any life. It has to be strong." Xenovia once again placed a hand on her chest as she spoke her true thoughts. "As unwilling as I am to say this, Issei Hyoudo, for example, would have had been a candidate because he possesses strong draconic characteristics. I would want that for my child. In the same way, you have characteristics that I would want for my child. Thus, my mother was right, I want your child."

She finished on a strong point, leaving Shrirou stunned. However, Shirou could clearly see that this meant a lot for Xenovia so he could only offer his encouragement. Yet, he avoided her gaze when she suggestively stared directly at him.

He found himself lucky that he was currently walking towards Kuoh and that it was still early in the morning. Otherwise, he wouldn't know what Xenovia would do.

In this case, she stayed directly by his side over the course of the entire walk. Mid-way, they met Irina who joined along in the little group.

However, the three would have to part as Shirou was registered in the third-year classes while both Xenovia and Irina were in the second-year classes. Coincidently, he was placed in the same class room as Rias and Sona who were both courteous to him, making his school life increasingly difficult.

After all, Rias and Sona were famous in Kuoh, and the fact that they were talking to him meant he had become the main target of envy; the other students swarming over him to ask questions about his relationship, causing him more than just a simple headache.

He could only shake his head continuously for the entirety of the day without much focus on whatever the teacher was instructing just to get by.

Thus, it wasn't until the end of the school day that Shirou met Xenovia and Irina again.

* * *

The sound of swords clanging together echoed out within an empty courtyard in Kuoh.

This courtyard was the place reserved by Heaven to train in while in Kuoh Academy.

No other students were around, and the courtyard was filled with fissures and crevasses caused by the sharp energies emitted from the swords in Shirou, Xenovia, and Irina's hands.

He let out a sigh as Xenovia utilized Irina's attack to lock him in a pincer.

"Your technique is still lacking," he spoke good naturedly, slipping away from his spot and allowing the Durandal in Xenovia's hands to crash uselessly into the ground. "Even then, you're too slow."

A crater was immediately formed along with a tower of Holy Energy from Xenovia's attack. Clicking her tongue, Xenovia twisted to swing out again.

Irina used this moment to attack. Using the momentum of the explosive energy Xenovia released, she instantly appeared in front of him, sword pointed forward.

Not expecting such a move, he was forced to block, the strike sending him back a couple steps before he called off the spar.

 _It wasn't like this before,_ Shirou stared down at his hands. After the fight with Kokabiel and the Fallen Angels, something about him had changed. To be more specific, it was the parameters of his body.

To be able to utilize reinforcement on himself, he had to understand his body's limits inherently. Otherwise there was always the risk of killing himself by bursting his blood vessels with too much energy.

Because of this, he was surprised to discover just how much more energy he could store into his body. It was perhaps more than just double the amount it used to be before, it was several times more.

To relate it, it would kind of resemble the way reincarnated Devils experienced a substantial increase to their base strengths. Issei for example may not have been strong enough to knock out an opponent when he was still human, but now he would have to severely hold himself back just to keep himself from killing them.

"You two are getting better," he complimented.

Xenovia just looked at him, and then back at her own sword, remaining silent.

"Was the difference between us always this big?" Irina complained. "I remember before at the Church that you were having trouble with Xenovia."

Xenovia looked up sharply at Shirou, but a thoughtfulness appeared in her eyes as she considered the strength Shirou had shown in the past battle.

"I'm not sure what happened really," Shirou said truthfully. The change in his body's capabilities was still something that he was pondering over. "Besides, this is a sparring match related to sword skill, not abilities."

Xenovia and Irina nodded their heads before Irina seemed to remember something.

"Hey, there's something I need to tell you guys," Irina said while the three of them took a break on the bench at the outermost part of the courtyard.

Both Shirou and Xenovia stared at her questioningly.

"I got a message from my Priest in the Church I originally came from before transferring. There's apparently a big event going on that we shouldn't miss out on!" Irina said with a finger raised. "In fact, it's so important that the event is being hosted by Heaven itself."

Xenovia's eyes sparkled with interest.

Shirou was less so, recalling his experiences with Church held events.

"I don't suppose I'd be allowed to pass right?" He tried to get out of it anyway.

Xenovia only thought he was being modest while Irina just stared at him dubiously.

"The legend of the Holy Sword Trials isn't going to participate?" Irina asked in a daze. "You won't believe how many of us from the Holy Sword Trials are only going just to see you participate against those in the Vatican."

 _L-Legend?_

He dared not ask. In fact, he had an inkling that this legend was related to his breaking of Holy Artifacts one by one, and that wasn't something he wanted to think about.

Egged on by Irina, Xenovia was already envisioning the scene Irina was avidly describing until she looked his way and spoke out.

"I want to see it," she said determinedly, pulling herself closer to him to convey just how serious she was without seeing anything wrong in doing so.

However, because everyone had just finished sparring, there was a layer of sweat that glimmered just over top her skin. He didn't mind that though, it was that the fragrance coming off of her was just too alluring. You would think one would smell after getting in a good sweat, but with Irina and Xenovia, the two maintained the fragrance of mint or early morning dew.

"S-Sure," he spluttered out just to get some distance from her.

Irina watched the interaction in amusement, her goal achieved as she heard his words of acknowledgment.

"Anyway," he began, attempting to steer the conversation away. "How was your first day in Kuoh?" He asked Xenovia.

She had always been homeschooled, and as such had never actually been to a school.

"It's different, and I don't understand why people like to stare at me, or ask me where I come from, and even my hobbies." A troubled expression appeared on Xenovia's face as she answered while towling off her sweat. "Its all too confusing really. Am I even required to tell them my bust size?"

Irina gaze Xenovia an apologetic look as that question was thrown out by one of Issei's friends.

He, in response, had nothing to say about Xenovia's answer aside from incredulousness. It was clear that the other students just wanted to get to know her, but as for that last question; he would need to have a good talking with the individual. He felt obligated to intervene as Xenovia was his friend, and if she was taken advantage of because of her ignorance, he couldn't stay idle. He could only hope that Xenovia would adjust to these sorts of things sooner, but knowing her, it was quite possible.

"Shirou Emiya?" A voice suddenly sounded.

He, Irina, and Xenovia turned towards the speaker, a Kuoh Academy student with long black hair that reached down to her legs. This was Tsubaki Shinra, Sona Sitri's Queen. A young bespectacled woman with split bangs, and in the Kuoh Academy girls uniform.

"Yes, that's me," he said in confirmation.

Tsubaki gave him a once over and then opened her mouth to speak.

"You've been going around the school fixing things, right? Just yesterday the Tennis club said you'd fixed their cooler. I was wondering if you could help out with something in the Student Council room," Tsubaki admitted.

"Oh, I'd be glad to."

Helping others was something he didn't even have to think about.

Yet when he stood up to follow Tsubaki, he realized that he wasn't the only one to. Both Irina and Xenovia had as well. Somehow, the feeling he got was familiar to something that had already happened.

"I think I should be fine by myself," he said.

"Alone with another woman?" Xenovia said with a tilted head.

"Lord Michael said to always stay by your side," Irina said.

The two were insistent on coming, and he didn't have a reason to stop them. If they wanted to come with him, then there shouldn't be anything he could say to stop them. Yet, as fortune would have it, it was Tsubaki who spoke as she read from a magazine she pulled out from her bag.

"A loving woman would have the most faith in her man, having no doubts in him even if he was in the company of others. Whereas the stick-close kind of women are often rejected in the end," Tsubaki said aloud.

Xenovia froze, one of her hands grabbing onto Irina's. She glared at Tsubaki realizing what Tsubaki was insinuating.

"We're going," Xenovia spoke adamantly to Irina, dragging her off under heavy protest.

Meanwhile, he stared at the small smile that played on Tsubaki's lips, but didn't comment.

He really didn't feel like he had the energy to.

Entering the Student Council room, he saw Sona Sitri sitting alone in her desk at the opposite corner of the room. She was working on a stack of papers to her right and the gradual pace of her movements let him know just how long she may have had been at it.

Tsubaki closed the Student Council door behind him.

"It's the heater," Tsubaki explained. "For some reason it keeps turning on and warming up the room even with the sunny weather we've been having."

He nodded his head.

A heater. It's been a long time since he'd worked on one.

Greeting Sona, he moved over towards the heater Tsubaki specified and knelt down next to it. Placing a hand on its metal surface, he closed his eyes as he utilized Structural Analysis.

However, he didn't know that he was being watched in the process.

Both Sona and Tsubaki stared at him as he used his magic. Yet different to how others used magic, there was no magic circle involved when interface pattern like lines appeared over the entirety of the heater.

He focused himself, and quickly found the problem.

"There's been a short-circuit in one of the fuses in the back compartment," he explained. "I should be able to fix it if I move around a few wires, but I'd need a screw driver to open it. Something wrong?"

He asked, realizing that Tsubaki wasn't answering him.

When he turned to face her, she quickly complied with what he had said. Thus, he finished fixing the heater in a matter of moments after opening it up.

"If there's nothing else, then I'll be on my way," he said politely.

"Wait a moment if you will," Sona suddenly called.

He rose a brow, but he stayed behind to listen to whatever Sona had to say.

She beckoned him over to take a seat in one of the chairs directly facing her desk. Afterwards, she began talking while moving her stack of papers to the side.

"Even without my sister telling me, I can already speculate the importance you alone would have in this coming Peace Alliance," she began. "Therefore, I decided to talk to you today for a favour to speak up on behalf of us Devils that we too wish for peace," Sona said as she leaned her back on her seat.

Sona then raised a hand as he was going to reply, and elaborated further.

"I know you may say that it's convincing enough that two of the Four Great Satan's will be attending, but not all the Angels in Heaven will be swayed. You see, prejudice and grudges aren't something that can be so easily solved. Even if my sister and Serzechs were to attend, some Angels wouldn't see it as something significant."

Sona paused, a light shining in her spectacles.

"However, your words should change that; you who is regarded as the second coming of, he who watches down from the clouds," She explained. "This is important as even us Devils have grown weary from the war. The Seventy-Two Pillars, the Noble families of the underworld have already begun dwindling. More than half have already been lost, and even now, some still die off without warning. We want this war to end just as much as everyone else."

Saying her piece, Sona took out a long wound up parchment of paper.

"This is the Pureblood Registry," she said as she handed it over to him and gestured for him to open it.

Inside were various symbols belonging to each individual Devil of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

"As you can see, less than half are still glowing with magical power. Meaning to say, that more than half have already perished. This should be proof enough of my words," Sona said. "So please consider this request.

He nodded his head, stopping Sona from speaking further. Even without Sona raising the matter up, it was still something he would do. However, he had to admit that Sona prepared herself well.

Sona was surprised for a moment with his quick agreement, and thus smiled in response.

"You're quite interesting, aren't you?" Sona said while laughing good-naturedly. "You don't even consider the effects on yourself and you just agree to it?"

"It's not wrong to help others," he replied evenly.

Sona stared at him for a long moment, seeming to understand something.

"How selfless," she joked. But she supposed it was only to be expected of someone that even the Archangel Michael held such admiration for.

He scratched at the back of his head, before placing the Pure Blood Registry on top of Sona's desk. Inadvertently though, he glanced at the chess board not too far off in his vision.

Evidently, Sona noticed his glance.

"What would you say to a game of chess?" She suddenly asked.

He considered it as he recalled that he had nothing better to do. He had already finished training with Xenovia and Irina, and all he had left was to cook dinner.

"Sure, if you're willing, but I'm not really sure how the game works," he decided.

Sona seemed pleased with his decision, pushing aside the papers on her desk to place the chess board in the middle. Pushing up her glasses with a finger, she then began to explain.

"Well, you play by moving pieces like this, and this," Sona said slowly while motioning out with the various pieces of the chess board. It was done in the same way a teacher would teach a student, and Sona was quite good at it.

He nodded his head in response, relating the instructions of the game to the various schematics he would often see when using structural analysis. After all, some pieces fit in one way, while others fit in another. Having worked as a mechanic fixing various appliances in Homurahara Academy and even at his home in Fuyuki, he had become quite adept at solving puzzles and hard problems. When something didn't work the first time, more often than not, there was a method to fix it that he would have had worked towards through the blueprint he created in his mind.

In this way, when he first began moving chess pieces atop the board under Sona's instructions, he memorized their set patterns.

And when the game truly began, he could only scratch at the back of his head when he noticed the seriousness that quickly befell Sona's eyes as she glanced at him, and then back at the board.

* * *

Sona sat there motionless for a long time, her gaze stuck on the capture of her own King by a single Knight. One of the harder things to do in chess due to the irregularity of their movements.

This, this entire match was impossible.

How could a player be so proficient in a game he had never played before?

She had noticed it when they were playing, the thoughtfulness in his moves. It was as if he knew exactly what to do in any given situation. A hidden genius is what Shirou Emiya was. What was more frightening was the battle field awareness Shirou must possess to display such skills in chess. After all, chess could act as a substitute between two generals moving their troops across a board. To have defeated her, she felt a tad depressed if not a little bit more astonished.

Still, she noticed something as she turned her attention away from the chess board.

Sona rose a brow, her complexion exceedingly difficult to decipher as shock was evident in her eyes.

"He's already left, hasn't he?" Sona inquired, already knowing the answer.

"Indeed," Tsubaki said.

Sona pursed her lips together. Clasping her hands, she then leaned her head on the back of them while peering down at the Pureblood Registry she had taken out when for Shirou before.

"But this, it makes no sense, but -!"

It was if Sona had come to a sudden realization as her mind processed at a rapid speed. Biting the corner of her lip, she tapped gently on the counter of her desk with a finger before coming to a decision.

Tsubaki watched silently from the side, not understanding what it was that Sona was doing, but knowing that it had something to do with Shirou. Who would have had thought that that naïve looking boy could be so outstanding when it came to chess. Even more so when Tsubaki considered a past event that Sona herself had gone through. Could it be that?

Unknowing of Tsubaki's speculations, Sona continued on with her actions.

Opening a drawer in her desk, Sona pulled out a parchment of paper in which the Sitri Magic Crest could be seen emblazoned in red. Rolling up the Pureblood Registry, she stored the entirety of it into the Sitri Magic Crest, and only then did she release a sigh.

"President?" Tsubaki inquired.

Sona could barely hear Tsubaki due to the machinations of her own mind. Instead, she was already furiously writing down on a letter in which she promptly sent through the Sitri Magic Crest like the registry.

Peering up at Tsubaki's confused gaze, but not responding to it; Sona could only hope that her sister would treat her speculations as speculations before making a big deal out of it. Otherwise, there was going to be a whole new problem involved in this coming peace conference.

She let out another sigh as she stared distantly out the window, her legs crossing together as she leaned forward on her desk.

Meanwhile, Tsubaki was still left at a loss, unsure of what had come over her friend.

Seeing the absent-minded state Sona was in, and knowing that it may have had been because she had lost in a chess match, Tsubaki promptly pulled out her phone and sent out a text.

Tsubaki could only hope that this would help, but she wasn't counting on it knowing the nature of the person she had just contacted. Then again, Serafall should know better as one of the Four Great Satans, right?

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious**


	18. The Sword and the Underworld: Part 3

It was with an odd sort of premonition that Shirou stared at his outstretched hand reaching towards the handle of a particular door of a home situated near Kuoh. It was this very same door which was the property of the old couple he was currently in a room-and-board sort of relationship with.

Then again, he wasn't actually paying for anything which weighed on his mind almost as much as a distinct feeling that he'd somehow landed himself into unnecessary trouble. Of course, this was only his intuition, but it didn't help when he considered every bad situation that he had ever participated in had the involvement of a different woman. Not that they were evil or anything, but it was always because of one reason or another that he was dragged into numerous situations.

Rin Tohsaka, for example decided to have a Master-Servant battle in the middle of Homurahara School grounds, resulting in a spear through his heart.

Illyasviel von Einzbern, a little girl who called him 'brother' with a smile on her face, sent him a massive present in the form of a _brute_.

Therefore, his 'intuition' was more in line with his sense of peril regarding women. In which case, it was imperative that he seclude himself indoors and never step out again until the feeling subsided.

For such a means, his grip that he had on the door's handle tightened with purpose. To not get caught up in another woman's pacing and eventually lose himself in another troublesome situation.

Opening the door, he was barely able to walk in before catching sight of both Xenovia and Irina preparing themselves to leave. The two were currently putting on their shoes, the white cloaks they generally wore, replaced by the Kuoh Academy females uniform. It was a different sight than what he was used to back in Italy, but on some levels, he had to give credit to the design of this particular uniform. It accentuated all the natural curves of a woman and gave it this sensual sort of property that if he were any less of the man he was, he would have long lost himself staring.

Not that Xenovia would have had minded, for he was sure that the girl had got it into her head that so long as it was him looking, it didn't matter. He was already being pressured to stop her from walking out of the shower without a towel, therefore, he wouldn't know what would happen if he acted on his hormones and actually indicated his interest.

Clearing his throat, he composed himself before leaving the door propped open behind him.

He raised a brow thereafter.

"I thought class ended a couple hours ago," he commented while taking off his jacket and then draping it over Xenovia's shoulders.

She stared blankly at him for his actions, before a warmth spread across her face that nearly caused her lips to form into a smile. However, she was able to maintain her calm, but it was clear that she was exceedingly happy from how bright her eyes seemed to be.

She was practically beaming even as he pulled out another one of his spare jackets and similarly draped it over Irina's shoulders.

The poor girl didn't how to respond other than a small "thank you." After all, the majority of her interactions with boys centered around her youth when she played alongside Issei. Therefore, Irina didn't know how to react to his unconscious actions and considerations towards others.

For him at least, his actions were dictated out of thoughtfulness. He had been walking the entirety of the way back from Kuoh, and it was exceedingly cold out with the wind blowing over his face. Thus, when he saw that both Irina and Xenovia were going to leave with only their uniforms on, he immediately moved into action without much thought.

As far as he was concerned, the two of them had not brought any luggage containing their clothes and instead brought a pile of 'junk,' Irina claimed to be Holy Objects of devotion. It was truly all junk though. It was a fact. A fact he knew all too well would cause Xenovia to explode on Irina should she ever find out. In this way, it had sort of became a taboo subject that would form dark clouds over Xenovia's head should she ever think back on it.

But that was beside the point. What mattered was that they really didn't have anything warmer to wear other than those white cloaks they brought, yet he would rather they wear his spare jackets then walk around in something so eye-catching.

"We were called on a sudden summons," Xenovia explained slowly, her complexion radiant as she could still feel the lingering warmth in the jacket. "We weren't told what it was about, just that all available personnel from the church are to meet up at Kuoh."

"And after we just got back too," Irina said in a defeated tone that only Xenovia could relate to. After all, only the two of them knew that he had baked desserts the night before.

And apparently, what the two loved more than the food he made, were the desserts he created under their watchful gazes.

Considering that he had made a type of angel-fruit-cake and a trey of assorted cookies, the two had been looking forward to satiating their cravings.

Of the two, it was Xenovia who was the most eager. After all, in the Holy Sword Trials, she had her fill of the types of food he could make, and she hadn't let him off since.

Unexpectedly, when Irina voiced her complaint, Xenovia didn't seem as troubled as Irina was expecting her to be. Instead, a ferocious light exuded from Irina's eyes when she suddenly zoomed in on the presence of crumbs around Xenovia's lips and a tiny portion on her chest.

Sensing the murderous aura suddenly erupting around Irina, Xenovia was quick to act while looking slightly guilty. Of course, he was quick to understand the source of her guilt. Knowing her character. It probably wasn't that she took a bite of the dessert before Irina, it was infinitely times more likely that she ate _all_ of it.

Pursing her lips awkwardly, she quickly gave him a hug before running out the door, Irina chasing after her in a fluster.

"Bye!" She called back to him, a smile blooming on her face that left him dazed.

No matter how he tried to reason with himself, he knew that Xenovia liked him a lot. Why else would someone so cold to others only show a smile in his direction? Even more so when she had never been one good with interacting with others. It was to the point that she was genuinely happy to have had first made a single friend with him at the church in Italy.

When Griselda suggested a baby, he was even more sure that Xenovia was only trying to follow the wishes of the woman who raised her. Yet, looking at her now whenever she stared at him, he couldn't fool himself into believing that any longer.

Mulling over his thoughts, he entered in the living room of the home and quietly sat onto a recliner staring at the seat opposite of him. It was where Ayakoji used to sit while languidly staring at the T.V. screen. However, it was empty at this moment as it had been since the end of the Excalibur incident.

The man was just nowhere to be found. Therefore, even he had to give up on searching and just wait to see if Ayakoji would turn up sometime. In the meantime, he had to deal with the sword strapped firmly to his waist.

It was a sword made out of the combination of six out of the seven shards of Excalibur, and no matter what he did, he couldn't pull it free from its strap by his waist. It was only fortunate that like the necklace around his neck, others couldn't see it. Although in Excalibur's case, he knew that others with a stronger perception would be able to perceive it just from its sword-like Holy Aura alone.

This left him in a bind as he knew that it wasn't good to give himself away in battle, but there was nothing he could do about it for now.

Sighing, he craned his neck to the side as his eyes focused on something that he knew was not there when he had left in the morning.

Two pale white feathers only about the size of his palm were in sight and illuminated by the light of an open window.

Upon sighting them, the necklace that was hanging dormant around his neck shook violently.

"!"

He muffled a groan. He didn't have a choice as the necklace all but dragged him towards those feathers.

 _"Michael, Garbriel…"_

The voice in the necklace was trembling.

 _"You, both, you would even?"_

"What's going on?" He asked urgently.

From what he knew, the voice in the necklace had conveyed that it would have to rest to make up for the strength it had lost previously, but clearly something was wrong with that statement. After all, the strength he could feel pulling on his neck now was not something that a weakened necklace should have had been able to achieve.

Instead of answering, he was forced to watch in disbelief as the two feathers in front of him virtually exploded in a shower of unending divine light that filtered directly into the necklace around his neck. And as it did so, the necklace around his neck was gradually shifting transparent as it finally seemed to sink directly into his body.

Moments later, the light died down, and the room was still.

Perplexed, he patted around his own neck but couldn't feel the familiar outline of the necklace any longer. All that he could feel with his finger tips, was the smooth skin of his neck.

 _"The Divine Light of Angels. It alone is connected to an Angel's divinity and very lifespan."_

The voice echoed within his head, letting him know exactly what he had just seen. The Divine Light of Angels was something of a representation of an Angel's power and standing in much the same way as their wings; the stronger the Divine Light, the more probable that the Angel would maintain self prosperity. For Michael and Gabriel to give a portion of it up, it went to show just how much they wanted to help in the necklace's recovery.

 _"Michael and Gabriel, they sacrificed so much, yet how can a father bear to burden his children?"_

The tone of which the voice spoke was anguished, but he could relate to the feelings Michael and Gabriel probably felt. If he could have had been able to help Kiritsugu with his affliction then he wouldn't have had even minded sacrificing his own life.

If a parent loves their child, then a child loves their parent just as well.

There was a certain resoluteness in the voice's tone that he knew came from a hardened resolve.

 _"Shirou Emiya, my strength has been greatly restored, therefore I no longer need to spend excessive amounts of time in hibernation. The time to act is now."_

His body grew tense, but he had already come to terms with himself with what he had to do. God said that something like what had come out of the Holy Grail in Fuyuki was lurking within this very world, and thus he had to stop it from emerging somehow. In this regard, he would give his full support.

 _"Will you help me?"_

His only response was a nod for words were no longer necessary.

 _"Then we must start where the traces begin."_

Dim flecks of blue light began swirling across the room.

Iridescent and moving erratically like fireflies in a dark evening.

A door was formed from the ether.

A rectangular portal that led through the fabrics of space itself, distorting the air around it.

And with a single step forward, he disappeared through it.

A man who would later be known by all as a being spoken of in reverence.

* * *

By now, Xenovia was fairly sure that Irina's anger had simmered down enough that it was safe to start walking beside her without fear of getting jumped on. But don't get her wrong though, she was more than prepared to dash off should her estimates be less than accurate.

Wind striking against her face, she pulled in the jacket Shirou had given her and immersed herself in the soft fabric. She could even smell the lingering scent he had left behind. He was actually quite considerate. It was something she really liked about him as she could tell from the steadiness of his actions that he didn't even think before he acted.

She smiled when she was sure that Irina wasn't looking.

He really was a man who knew how to treat a woman.

And because of this, it was almost unbelievable that she had first met him by the Church Creak. Yet know that she saw first hand who he was and represented, she felt a vague sense of acknowledgment for his origins. Even the most important of individuals stemmed from humble beginnings. Christ was the same, and perhaps the creak served as a symbolic symbol. John the Baptist for example cleansed people of their sins using water from a stream. As for Shirou, he aided the swordsmanship of the young sword trainees by the Church. She was the same when she sought him out, and through it, she discovered a part of herself she never believed she had.

He was a true Holy Man in every sense of the title.

And he was the one she wanted to make a child with not just because the child would be powerful, but more because she had developed strong feelings for him.

Humming to herself, she adjusted her pacing to fall just beside Irina who was now only glaring at her.

"Sorry," she offered, but clearly, Irina noticed that she didn't feel any regret. "They tasted too good," she then added thoughtfully.

Irina's expression darkened without her notice, but she reasoned that there was no point starting a fuss about events that had already occurred.

As such, Irina grumbled piteously as she walked with her head bowed.

Xenovia paid no notice, the bright expression on her face yet to fade.

When the two arrived at Kuoh Academy, the majority of the students were already gone, leaving behind only those belonging to a devil's peerage. Tsubaki Shinra so happened to pass by at that moment, and from the look on her face, Xenovia felt slightly odd about this urgent matter from the church.

Still, when Tsubaki met her gaze, the girl herself seemed to freeze awkwardly. Her mouth had curved into a strained smile, and her eyes had darted completely away as she quickly hurried along.

Xenovia frowned and was just about to ask Irina about her thoughts, but realized that Irina had missed the entire scene since her head was still bowed low.

Therefore, Xenovia herself was forced to mull over the matter as she felt a bad premonition that only grew worse when she and Irina reached their destination.

Several rows of Angels were stationed just outside of the Occult Research Club Building, and even some Devils she had never seen before were among their ranks. Then again, the hostility between them was not something that could be hidden.

It was as if all it would take to break out into open conflict was a minor argument.

She wouldn't be surprised if this was the case at all. However, once she and Irina approached, it had an unexpected effect. Both Angel and Devil alike guarding the premise stared at them, but more specifically on Xenovia herself.

She pursed her lips from the attention but gave nothing away as she stared back blankly. The feeling that something was wrong had long ago sky-rocketed out of proportions, making her hands grow clammy.

In the Angels view, she was somewhat of a special case. If Shirou was viewed as the re-emergence of 'he who rules in the clouds,' then her relationship with Shirou was something to be taken seriously. God had never had a wife, but it was clear that Shirou wasn't fully the same God the Angels worshipped. Instead, he was more akin to a reincarnation, an individual that was the most suited for the role of leading the world to salvation.

He was the second coming of God, but not everything about him was the same as God. This was evident in the change in disposition Shirou showed when the heavenly light around him in the battle with the Excaliburs faded. He shifted from a godly being back into a mortal who had no definite recollection of the events that had transpired.

In which case, it could only be speculated that God was him, and he was God.

Because Xenovia spent so much time around Shirou, the preconception around her shifted in the eyes of Michael and the Angels to _potential matriarch_.

And this was why everyone was staring oddly at Xenovia, because something ground breaking was currently occurring within the building.

Ushered into the Occult Research Building, both Xenovia and Irina stared at each other in confusion before walking towards the designated room.

On the way, Xenovia was growing increasingly perturbed. Everyone she passed by, be it Angel or Devil would glance at her direction.

"Do you think you did something wrong?" Irina asked perplexed. Irina was being oddly meek because of all the attention falling over her and Xenovia.

"No," Xenovia answered curtly, brows furrowed. "I have no idea."

Troubled, Irina shut her mouth and looked on ahead without another sound.

Up around the next corner, both Xenovia and Irina knew that it would lead to the hall in front of the Occult Research club room and already they could hear the sounds of voices.

Yet, it wasn't until a single sentence entered the two's ears that the two froze in their steps; Irina even went the extra length to stare incredulously at Xenovia like she couldn't believe the words that she had just heard.

Xenovia's reaction was far more telling. Her breath quickened, and it was almost as if she had been stabbed in the chest with how pale her face had become. There was even a quiver on her lip that trembled ever so slightly from her widened mouth.

It was a single sentence.

Something that should have had been no more than a fleeting jumble of words.

Yet those words continued to echo in Xenovia's ears.

 _~I propose to have Shirou married to my sister, Sona Sitri._

No.

NO.

Everything that had occurred before her eyes recently seemed to finally connect in her mind. The reason for Tsubaki's awkwardness, the stares from both Angels and Devils alike, it was all because of this.

Because in both the Angels and Devils perspectives, she was a woman exceedingly close with Shirou. Therefore, to have another woman propose marriage to Shirou, it was completely out of the Angels and Devils predictions.

More than that, Xenovia wouldn't stand for it.

Mouth closing, her eyes narrowed as she directly entered the room without so much as a knock.

Inside, she saw Michael smiling wryly at the woman in front of him. A woman who was currently in the attire of a magical girl complete with a pink dress and matching head-piece. Sirzech's was right beside this woman, and similar to Michael, he had a strained smile on his face as he knew Shirou's weight in the Heaven Faction.

Xenovia didn't care about anything else. Not even status. Before Irina could catch up to her to dissuade her, she was already sweeping a glance into the room.

Seeing the woman, and recognizing her voice to be the one she had heard in the hall, the first words that came from Xenovia's mouth was,

"I _am the main wife_."

* * *

When next Shirou opened his eyes, it was to see a familiar background. The scent of charred wood and glass permeated in the air, and the fires that had once plagued the area had long since died down, leaving only ashes that covered his feet.

This was the very place he had first arrived at from Fuyuki. Here, he was tasked to gather the red chess pieces which had then morphed into various stone monuments that were kept stored somewhere by God.

Now that he was back, there was nothing left of the building he was in. Staring up at the sky, he was stupefied when he realized that it was purple.

"Where is this place?" He asked.

 _"This is the Underworld, and you best move before the Devils spot you."_

Shirou raised a brow. The Devils he knew weren't the Devils they were described to be in his world. Instead, they were far more human. Thinking back to his reaction when Devils were first mentioned, he was a tad bit ashamed that he thought badly of them.

"Is there a need to hide?" He asked. "Devils don't seem to be bad people," he reasoned.

 _"That was then, and this is now. What you know already will be different from what you will see today for we are in the era of the Great War Between the Factions at the time just after my confrontation and 'death' alongside the original Four Great Satans."_

Shirou's eyes widened when he heard the words God spoke. Thereafter, he chose to heed God's words and hid himself within the burnt rubble of the area around. Soot covered his body from head to toe, giving him an ash like complexion as patches of burnt dust clung to him. However, he was thoroughly hidden as a result.

Almost as soon as he had hidden himself, several winged devils appeared in the sky. Their eyes were blood-shot and the murderous intent around them was unmistakable.

Shifting in the ash, he was able to move his head just enough to see something that immediately ignited his anger.

Flying in the sky, the devils each carried thick ropes of twine that stretched down to tie up an entire group of beaten people. Just from the characteristics of the people tied in rope, it was clear that they were also Devils. But then why were the Devils treating each other in such a way?

His Body shook from sheer fury when his eyes landed on the final bundle held in the hands of one of the flying Devils. It was composed entirely out of women and children, and not even they were spared from the beating. There was even child whose face had become unrecognizable due to swelling, and still he was bound in rope and suspended in the air.

Shirou's hands balled into fists, ash and debris splintering as the magical energy within him was threatening to explode. It was to the point that he nearly got caught when he was about to forsake his position and jump out. However, a heaviness in his body forced him to remain on the ground.

 _"Be still, now isn't the time."_

Shirou cursed as he could do nothing but watch as those Devils flew off in the distance. When God eased the pressure on him, the first thing Shirou did was rush off in the direction he saw the Devils flying in. And when he got there, he stood rooted staring at a tower of bodies piled high into a mound over the remains of what was once a small town. And beneath that pile, was an assortment of wood and branches that could only possibly serve one purpose.

"They're going to burn them alive!"

He was beyond infuriated, he was seething.

"What is going on!?" He immediately questioned.

A sigh echoed into his ears before the voice spoke.

 _"It was well known that after the fall of the Four Great Satans, the Devils split off into two distinct branches, the Old Satan Faction whose purpose was to continue the war for the world, and the New Satan Faction which opposed it. Because of these two beliefs, a Civil War broke out within the Underworld leading to the loss of numerous Devils."_

Shirou remained silent as he digested what he was just told, but it did nothing to appease his restlessness.

 _"The Old Satan Faction was too keen on continuing the war. Those that had other opinions were silenced just like what you are seeing now, but even then, this case is probably one of the darker ones. It seems that they aren't even going to spare the civilians."_

The Old Satan Faction, looking at them, Shirou only knew that he would never be able to get along with them.

"Why are we here?" He ended up asking after a long moment of silence.

 _"Because this is where we pick up the trail before returning to the present. Our time spent here will only be a moment spent there, so we should have plenty of time. But on to the actual topic. The moment after my fall with the Four Great Satans was when the malefic power stored within that corrupted Grail poured its contents out into my world. My battleground shouldn't be far from here, and if the malefic power left any trails to give us a lead in the modern century, then we can only find it here in this timeline. The timeline when the Holy Grail first appeared."_

Shirou nodded his head, but then asked a different question that was bothering him.

"If we are investigating this place now, then why did I appear here first after leaving Fuyuki, and then have to leave?"

 _"It was all a coincidence. At the time, I was short on strength and only barely managed to get you across by using the distortion the Grail had already made in this world. From there I…"_

The voice fell silent for a moment before continuing resolutely.

 _"From there I tapped into another source of power to send us to the present time where it was safer so that I could regain some of my strength. And before you ask, this 'other power source' is probably what you've already assumed when you first laid eyes on the Evil Pieces in Sona Sitri and Rias Gremory's hands. Yes, I used what the Devils call the Evil Piece System."_

Shirou nodded his head. "Then the King piece that was missing?"

 _"Melded into you."_ God confirmed. _"However, because of my presence, the Evil Pieces were changed into something that is far different from any of the Evil Pieces in the hands of Devils. Rather, they are more akin to vessels. This is why you didn't become a Devil when I integrated the piece into you to improve your constitution and magical power. Instead, you retained your human form, neither Devil nor Angel, the two energies balancing themselves out."_

Shirou didn't need to hear anymore. At this point, he knew enough about himself, and he wasn't interested in such things anyway. Instead, he was moments away from bursting into the scene in front of him and putting an end to.

It didn't matter if he was back in time and may skew the future with his actions. If others were suffering in front of him, would he just stay back and watch? That wasn't the way of a hero. That wasn't something Shirou Emiya would do.

 _"You must understand that you may not be able to change anything. If you charge in there as you are now, then not only would you not be helping, but you may only invite more trouble as a human with Holy Attributes. At the moment, the Factions are still at war, and if you were to appear now, those you save may not show gratitude, but instead give you scorn for taking away their loved ones in the war."_

"Then you expect me to do nothing?" Shirou scoffed. "I don't care if they scorn me, what matters is that I save them."

 _" **Then perhaps I can be of help?** " _

The voice that spoke was unlike the gentle and serene one of before. Instead, this one was dark and callous.

Shirou knew who it was, and without even thinking, gave his consent.

Dark tribal patterns suddenly appeared over his body, his complexion and skin tone shifting to a dull bronze while his hair blackened. Pain immediately flared within him, but it was a familiar pain that he had already experienced in the second phase of the Holy Sword Trial. The pain of the boy who was forced into a position of which he had no control.

Hairs standing on end, narrowed eyes stared at the sight before them, a boundless aura of dark power surging up like a torch.

 _What is a Devil?_

A single step forward, and the ground beneath him caved in.

 _Was it not a being whose power dwarfed others?_

The next step sent a powerful shockwave out in all directions, black tribal marks glowing in a red light.

He was no Devil, but right now, the other Devil's in the area grew stock still in bafflement.

A suffocating pressure.

A feeling that crushed any notions of resistance and demanded submission.

The power of the King piece in his body melded completely with him, a towering surge of Devil Energy shooting up into the sky.

The shirt he was wearing ripped to pieces, revealing toned and defined muscles that rippled with every action.

 _Devils submitted to power. The Four Great Satans being the strongest of all Devil kind._

And he who was exuding a power that enveloped the entire area appeared to be a Devil greater than any other.

 _A sovereign._

 _Nobility._

 _A Pillar._

The eyes of the Devils piled into a mound grew exceptionally bright as a magic symbol suddenly stretched from the ground beneath Shirou's feet to the entirety of the territory around him.

 _The Great President of Hell governing thirty-six legions._

 _And the House that stemmed from it._

It was the magic circle of Marbas, of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

* * *

When the magic circle lit up beneath her feet, the young Adelina was too busy weeping in the arms of her mother to notice. She was a resident of the towns under Lord Marbas's jurisdiction, and the man was adamant that he wouldn't support the Old Satan Faction. This was what lead to the current situation.

The bruises on her body still stung from the beating she had endured from the Devils belonging to the Old Satan Faction. But, she wouldn't mind bearing such pain over and over again if it meant that it could bring back her father.

He was killed before her eyes because he refused to leave her and her mother alone to fight in a war that would only lead to more death. It was the same for all the other men living in the territory of Lord Marbas of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

After an entire group from the Old Satan Faction attacked the Lord's mansion, everyone was sure that their Lord who had been protecting them had died. This was only proven when the Old Satan Faction hauled out a battered body from the rubble of the Marbas Mansion thereafter, but clearly, a descendant of the Marbas line still lived.

And he had arrived just in time to. Otherwise, she knew full well that she and everyone else loyal to the Marbas line would be burned to ashes in the wind.

Adelina couldn't stop the tears from rushing down her face when her mother coaxed her out of her arms to stare at the glowing magic symbols on the ground.

It was over, everything was finally over.

The new lord would take care of everything.

Looking at that figure who walked steadily down the worn path of the Lord's mansion, the image burned itself into the eyes of everyone present. For the Devil that appeared in their gaze was a Devil like none other.

Black tribal marks ran across his entire body, and the frigidness of his gaze sent shivers down her spine. Nevertheless, Adelina pushed herself out of her mother's arms and ran in the direction of this Devil. After all, unlike everyone else who were to injured to move, her condition was fairly better. Because of this, she needed to act.

None stopped her approach, for none dared to move on the Old Satan Faction's side.

Met with no resistance, Adelina still succumbed to her injuries and fell on the ground. Yet even then, she stared at the Descendant of Marbas and prostrated in his direction.

"Lord Devil, please save us!" She pleaded, not daring to meet this descendant of Marbas's gaze.

After all, she had no idea if this descendant was anything like the Kind Old Marbas that she and many of the townsfolk knew.

Unexpectedly, a gentle hand appeared over her shoulder, and the face that met hers ended up moving her to tears. It was an expression of care and concern, something that other High-Class Devils rarely showed to low class-Devils like herself.

"Rest easy," were the only word whispered into her ears.

And then he walked past her, straight to where the Old Satan Faction members were standing.

For each step taken, the Old Satan Faction took a step back.

"Y-You, don't push your luck!" One of the Old Satan Faction members muttered. But even then, it wasn't very convincing for a threat when the man himself was trembling.

And in that moment, a sword suddenly stabbed through the man who looked down with widened eyes. Blood pooled around the wound before the man collapsed to his knees, the other Devils from the Old Satan Faction watching in horror.

For the sword just appeared out of nowhere.

W-What the hell was this?

What just happened was impossible.

Choking on his own blood, the man that had spoken would never again utter a single word.

A dead silence quickly fell with only the sound of feet pressing against the ground to be heard.

Adelina herself was thoroughly stumped for words for nothing could explain such an inexplicable sight. It was too powerful and unheard of. Lord Marbas had never shown such a magical ability, and yet this descendant was capable of it? Was it some sort of new family magic?

She closed her mouth and watched riveted. She didn't care what it was, for that sword represented her vindication. The men and women who took her father away from her were finally going to experience retribution.

And indeed, this was the case.

The Devils in the Old Satan Faction panicked and immediately fled, but many still stayed. And the ones that did were able to experience first hand the means of this descendant of Marbas.

A spear wrought with pulsing vein like inscriptions pierced all with unerring accuracy. One stab at the heart, and that was all it took.

And when a two-meter-long blade appeared in the young Lord's hands, it was like he suddenly transformed.

Gentle and serene.

The disposition of one who had spent a lifetime honing their skills with a sword.

As for the Devils rushing at him, they couldn't even be compared in the same sentence.

 _It was a multi-directional attack._

Something invented by a man who simply had too much time on his hands and a single-minded devotion to slay a swallow mid-flight.

The sword whose edge strikes three times.

"Tsubame Gaeshi,"

It was a show of swordsmanship she and many other Devils had never seen before. It was too overwhelmingly strong that it could only be described as perfect.

When that sword swung, more than just one devil was caught by surprise when at that moment before cutting down the enemy, three swords existed.

Her mouth dried when she saw the result. All that were caught within that blade's swing were reduced to nothing more than tiny pieces.

Her mouth opened then after.

"Hail Lord Marbas!"

It was a feeling and an urge that welled from her very being for the individual who was fighting on hers and everyone's behalf.

"Hail our Lord Nobility of the Seventy-Two Pillars!"

Her voice was hoarse, but still she cheered for his name. The mournful tears on her eyes only continued to stream as she thought back to her father's dead body.

It wasn't fair.

It just wasn't fair.

Her expression dropped as her lips trembled.

 _Why didn't you come sooner?_

She pursed her lips as she knew that it wasn't his fault. It was just how the situation played out. Still, for a low-class Devil like her and the current inhabitants, the kindness the Lord was showing was already more than enough.

"Hail Lord Marbas!"

The sound of her proclamation, was the signal for the shattering of whatever resolve those on the Old Satan's Faction had. All suddenly began to flee, yet their nightmare was far from over.

In the young Lord's hands appeared a pitch-black bow almost as long as he was tall. And on that bow, countless arrows were fired. Twisted swords that moved much faster than any Devil could fly.

They soared in the sky, piercing into fleeing Devils one by one. The sheer penetrating power was enough to pierce even mountain bed-rock.

The Devils in the sky fell like flies, wings unmoving as they landed on the ground.

She didn't pity them, for they got what they deserved.

Turning her gaze away from the young Lord, she crawled back in the direction of her mother using whatever strength she had left. Her legs refused to work, so all that she could do was force herself forward by using her forearms. Even then, she was forced to wince as bits and pieces of dirt and gravel dug into her skin.

It was then that she felt a pair of arms wrap around her to hoist her up.

She was powerless to resist, but there was no point in doing so when she realized that she was being taken in the direction of her mother. Her mother had her hands over her mouth, and it was clear that she was stuck in a state of indecision.

It was only when she was passed over to her mother that she would realize why. The person that had been carrying her was none other than the Lord who had already driven off the Devils from the Old Satan Faction.

A man who could be nothing other than a hero to her and the other Devils.

For he had appeared to grant them salvation in their time of need.

And that was a gift that no one would be able to repay. Yet it was because of this, that fierce loyalty began to bloom.

When Adelina stared at the face of the young Lord, she knew then that she would devote her entire life to him. For a High-Class Devil, a Lord that could smile at her just because she was safe, was a Lord like none other.

But to the fleeing Devils from the Old Satan Faction, they would know him as something far worse. Something that they couldn't even report properly to their superiors when interrogated.

He was a member of the Seventy-Two Pillars, the nobility of Devil-kind which possessed the strongest of all Devils.

He was known as Marbas the Unfathomable.

* * *

 **Thanks for Reading! The start of this arc is beginning.**

 **Fate go is kind of addicting: 604 448 818 if anyone's interested.**

 **P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious**

 **Next update: Vasto of White Tomorrow evening if all goes well for this double update**


	19. The Sword and the Underworld: Part 4

Time is like the water of a raging river, forceful and unrelenting, branching off into numerous paths that diverge without bounds. And perhaps because of this, all possibilities were endless?

The sound of dirt crunching beneath Shirou's feet pricked at his ears, yet he didn't mind it very much. After all, the pain he was currently going through was not something an average man could endure. Let alone the sound of dirt crunching, he wouldn't even bat an eye if someone was yelling at his face.

Stifling a groan, he pressed his back against the rough bark of a tree and attempted to mitigate the pain by closing his eyes. However, it hardly worked.

" **Do you regret it?** " A voice spoke from within his conscience.

Despite the voice sounding biting, it was clear that it was keen on hearing an answer, no matter what it was.

Did he regret it? Of course not, and he quickly conveyed it.

The pain coursing through his body was the demerit of taking on the Evils of the World, or at least a portion of it that had been ravaging the mind of a child several years younger than he was. Yet, he bore it without hesitation to help another and avoid complications at the same time. In return for the pain, he was able to garner the power that came with it, something so tainted that it altered his very appearance. Then again, the change was most likely because of the absence of God's presence within him; the Holy properties of the one who sits upon the throne in the skies no longer counteracting the demonic properties of all the World's Evils.

God's presence was being suppressed within Shirou's body, and God had done so willingly to prevent any Devil from detecting the slightest hint of Holy attribute. At the same time though, God could not readily speak with Shirou either. Therefore, it gave free reign to the other being within him, the one who knew the anguish of bearing the burden of the World's Evils.

" **…** " the voice in Shirou's head fell silent when it understood Shirou's answer.

In the next moment, the leaves rustled as a small Devil made her way through the underbrush.

His eyes opened to stare at her.

She was tiny. A little girl no older then seven that was forced to mature due to the nature of the situation. Her green-coloured hair was braided down one side, and her grey eyes stared at him in child-like fascination, or perhaps something else. He didn't know, nor did he understand the impact of the image he had left within her mind when he saved her that day.

Tentatively, she walked towards him, a thin sheen of red colouring her rounded cheeks, making it clear that she was tired from her exertion.

This child's name was Adelina, the sole daughter of a newly widowed woman.

Of the people he had saved previously, it was her whose actions engraved itself into his mind. A little girl pleading for help despite the suffering she was obviously enduring.

"M-Mama says you have to eat too," Adelina stuttered out, pulling a small bundle of cloth wrapped food.

With the events of yesterday wrapped up, the inhabitants in the Lands of Marbas were in drastic need of aid. Both food and shelter had already become scarce after the attack from the Old Satan's Faction. And when he had seen this for himself, his mood soured considerably.

Under the astonished gazes of all, a presumed High-Ranked Devil had begun to cover himself in soot and ash as he wordlessly worked tirelessly to build a shelter large enough to accommodate all. Even then, from the pained expression on his face, it could only be assumed that he was suffering from some kind of injury, yet still he persisted.

The inhabitants in the land of Marbas were truly moved to tears at that moment. More so when the young lord began foraging through wrecked home after wrecked home to amass a pile of edible food. By the time he was done, he looked nothing like the distinguished figure of a Noble and more like a beggar by the side of a road. The contrast was too shocking, and none were able to snap themselves out of their daze fast enough to beg the young lord not to leave without at least eating something.

And this was how he had ended up in his current situation.

Adelina fidgeted under his gaze.

As the only one able to currently move, the task fell upon her to seek out the young Lord Marbas. It was sheer coincidence that she was able to find Shirou when he was in the midst of contemplating about leaving. Yet he had no such thoughts anymore after careful consideration.

Forcing himself to not reveal any of the pain he was feeling, Shirou sat further up as Adelina slowly approached him.

"H-Here," she stuttered out again, outstretching her hands.

Within the wrapped cloth was a piece of bread blackened by soot. However, it was still edible if anything. Just from its size alone, he knew clearly that it was the largest piece of food he was able to salvage earlier. And here it was now being given to him without another thought. The amount of others starving was no small number, and he would rather starve then let others do the same. The amount of food was really just too little.

His gaze softened when he saw the tiny nibbles on the edges of the bread, his mouth twitching into a smile when he noticed the crumbs on Adelina's lips.

"Thanks," he said.

Taking the bread into his hands, he immediately separated the bread into two pieces much to Adelina's surprise. One piece was exceedingly larger than the other which was only the size of a thumb.

Putting the thumb-sized piece of bread into his mouth, Adelina stood blankly when the other half was put in her hands.

He quickly made a shushing gesture with his fingers and pattered her head, encouraging her to eat.

Face flushing, Adelina was about to protest, but was stopped when he smiled down at her. She then glanced at the ground, unable to maintain her gaze and quietly began chewing on the bread.

"Eat a bit slower, you might choke," he reminded, the pain of his body tossed aside. After all, he could disregard the pain so long as he was doing it for the sake of another.

"Lord Marbas…" Adelina appeared to be at a loss for words.

As for himself, he didn't even react to what he was called by. At least with everyone knowing him as Lord Marbas, it may have less of an impact on the future.

Finishing the bread, Adelina simply stood there quietly. She had already finished her task, but at the same time, she didn't want to leave either.

Sighing, he took her small hand in his and began walking her back. It wouldn't do for a child to walk alone with the Civil War going on.

As the two left, a shadow in the trees fell to the ground to reveal a young woman of moderate stature with a puzzled expression in her eyes. Black-hair tied into twin-tails billowing in the wind, she shook her head before disappearing in a burst of speed, frost left in her wake.

* * *

When he arrived back at the shelter he built for the other people with Adelina by his side, he was immediately welcomed warmly. Despite being injured, the other Devils still attempted to bow in his direction which put him in an awkward position when he insisted that they didn't. His insistence however, only made them want to do so more as their respect for him only increased further.

When everything died down and he had eventually reunited Adelina with her mother, he frowned when he saw that there was nothing left of the food that he had gathered before. There was simply too little of it to even satisfy one's stomach. With how injured everyone was, he was clear that they would need good meals to allow their bodies to heal themselves. Despite being inclined to heal their injuries with the tools he had at his disposal, he was weary of it as more than one of the swords he had for healing carried Holy properties which may be counter productive.

Therefore, he made up his mind.

God had already specified where he had to go in this timeline, and had also specified that time here would be many times longer than the present. As such, he wouldn't have to worry about finishing his task too quickly. In this way, his thoughts immediately shifted towards finding a way to help these people. Just saving them from harm didn't mean that he had truly saved them if they died from starvation days later.

Bidding them a quick farewell, he went into the open plains that he noted in the distance to hunt for food.

Wild game seemed to be abundant at this season, and the size of them was much larger than in the Human World. A grazing deer of sorts was the same size as an elephant. This made it difficult for them to be hunted by the other lower-class Devils, but he would be having no such problems. He was quickly able to salvage quite a number of them, piling them atop his shoulder as he made his way back.

With the sheer amount he was carrying, the ground rumbled with every step he took, drawing much attention.

When the residents of Lord Marbas saw what it was that the young Lord was bringing for them, the gratitude they felt had already solidified into devotion. It didn't matter if they couldn't fight now, there were many other things people could do.

And they all swore on that day that they would live for their young Lord.

Soon, he arrived by a small plaza just in front of the shelter he had built. Tossing the meat on the ground, he immediately got to work, everyone watching him attentively.

It was only when they realized what the young Lord was doing that everyone became stupefied. They had heard of High-Class Devils being all powerful and calculating, but they had never seen nor heard of one being able to cook.

Indeed, he was cooking. Not only did it take his mind off the pain, but it was something he enjoyed doing if his gentle hum could be considered as anything substantial.

There was an element of caution one always had to take when cooking over an open fire with raw animals. One had to properly gut them and skin the fur to make a good meal. This was something he had perfected in his years of living, even more so when he used his skills in the Holy Sword trials. He was the one who ended up cooking for an entire group of people so he was now used to making larger portions.

The fire roared to life as he ignited the pieces of twine into a blaze of embers that fell upon the dry wood. Thereafter, he began to coat the meat with the spices and herbs he was able to salvage from the wrecked homes and some he found in the wild.

As the pieces of meat were huge, he ended up taking a considerable amount of time to perfectly season them, and even then, he wrapped everything up in large leaves before making a spit roast with sturdy traced blades.

Oblivious of everything else around him as he cooked, he didn't notice when nearly everyone was drawn towards him from the aroma of the food he was producing. Even the woman watching in the shadows had drool beginning to slide down her lips.

When the fire met the wrapped and seasoned meat, the juices and the fat began to mix within the wrapped meat, creating a burst of steam that puffed out into the air.

The excitement was palpable, the appeal of fresh meat and food was far greater than hard bread and damaged fruit.

Adelina stood with her mother's arms wrapped around her from the side. She was watching in a daze much like everyone else, and when the first piece of meat was offered to her, her mind blanked.

It wasn't until her mother cut off a piece and placed it directly into her mouth did she collect herself, but even then, her mind blanked once more when she registered the taste of the food in her mouth.

Her eyes widened as she chewed on auto-pilot, her cheeks vigorously moving up and down as a content expression filled her face when she swallowed. When she opened her mouth for more, she was shocked to realize that her mother was already eating it.

"Mom!" She couldn't help but exclaim.

The sound of laughter echoed out before Shirou gave everyone a piece before moving on to roast the next piece of meat. No matter how many times Adelina and the others asked for more, they were always given another piece, allowing them to eat till they were full.

By the time everyone finished eating, night had already fallen in the underworld, and many began to doze off as he decided to begin cleaning. Just from the smell alone, he was weary of attracting any animals in the dead of night. The others were still too injured to put of a resistance after all.

Yet before any animal could come, they were all beaten by the shadow who had once been hiding in the distance.

Making sure that Shirou was gone, the woman stalked closer to the left-over meat and with an incredulous expression, sunk her teeth into it.

Shirou's ears perked up from where he was currently walking towards the nearby stream to wash the grease and oil off of his hands.

Was that a moan?

He was sure that his ears were playing tricks on him, yet when he arrived towards the source of the sound, his jaw dropped open.

There in the middle of the night was a lady who had pounced directly onto the left-over pieces of meat and was gorging herself without a care.

She wore a form-fitting grey blouse and baggy leggings of the same colour. On her head was a black-coloured beret placed evenly between her pigtail-styled hair.

Even from where he was standing, he could hear her muttering as she ate.

"W-What kind of food is this?"

"Ooh, this one tastes good too!?"

She picked up one of the side dishes that he had made using crushed berries as a toping. Like he had demonstrated to the other Devils when he had first made it, the crushed berries were to be spread over a thin piece of lettuce-looking vegetable before wrapping it up with the meat to bite. Almost as soon as the woman did so, the entire dish in her hands disappeared into her stomach before she could even realize it.

"I-I, why can't I stop?"

Her voice sounded dismayed, but at the same time elated.

"T-The chefs at home never made anything like this," she muttered. "I wonder if I can hire him?"

"Oooh what's that?" She reached over for any piece of food she could see in sight, forgetting where exactly she was.

"MMhhhmm," she hummed as she ate, more so when she took a bite of the dessert he had made for Adelina, a type of pudding made from fruit.

"Ahem," he said, clearing his throat.

The woman froze almost immediately, a flush on her face as she turned to face him caught red-handed. Noticing that there was still a piece of food left in her hand, she immediately stuffed it into her mouth, her cheeks bulging and looking as if she had no regrets.

He waited for her to swallow before he questioned her.

"Who are you?" He asked. From the way she was looking at him, it didn't seem as if she was an enemy.

"I didn't know that old man Marbas had kept a son hidden away from everyone," the woman said evenly. "But clearly it must be because you secluded yourself to learn the arts of cooking."

He had no idea where she was going with this other than the way she was eying the rest of the left-overs. Sighing, he humored her and even began roasting her fresh food.

She beamed at him, her eyes seeming to sparkle as she waited in anticipation.

"A true gentleman," she complimented.

From her youthfulness, it was evident that she wasn't one of those Devils who simply appeared young but were hundreds of years old. Instead, she was probably around his age at the moment.

Relaxing, she dusted off her clothes before finding a suitable place to sit and wait.

Suddenly, her expression grew sharp as if she'd finally realized what she'd been doing. At first, she was simply observing due to her own curiosity, but the time for observations were over. Besides, she could be serious when she wanted to, and this was one of those times.

Her gaze calmed as she regained the majority of her composure. Her bearings had become more like that of a Nobility, giving her a disposition that was captivating in the dim light of the crackling flame.

"Forgive me for not introducing myself upon our first meeting, mother had always said I can get a bit carried away and lose my etiquette," the woman spoke courteously.

"I'm not one for etiquette anyway. You can just call me, Marbas, it's what everyone else calls me," he said.

The woman rose a brow. "Do you not have a name other than your family name?"

He didn't answer her question. There was no need to. It was better to keep a certain distance from people who seemed as if they had future relevance. Just from this woman's disposition, it was clear that she may be someone of importance.

"Then I'll call you Kuro, for your black hair and magical markings," the woman said whimsically.

His only response was a sigh as he just-about wrapped up making the fresh food and placed it on a plate over on the woman's lap.

"You should eat while it's still hot," he said, to which she smiled in response.

Yet rather than eating, the woman placed her hot food to the side to stand up directly in front of him. Her mouth was set in a thin line and her brows had shifted to a slant. A cold breeze passed by while an air of frost seemed to permeate around her as she then opened her mouth to speak.

"Serafall of house Sitri, greets Marbas of house Marbas."

It was the ancient etiquette taught to all High-Class Devils of the Seventy-Two Pillars, yet oddly enough, the young Lord of house Marbas failed to respond in kind.

After all, in Shirou's mind, numerous thoughts were flashing. One, the name of Sitri and its relation to Sona, and two, how this meeting may cause trouble for him in the future. Therefore, as soon as Shirou heard the name Sitri, his face steeled, not giving anything away.

"As for why I'm here, I came to help Old man Marbas, but I came too late. That was when you showed up and pushed back those members of the Old Satan Faction. I have to warn you though- hey, are you even listening?!" Serafall pouted, her arms crossing.

In fact, he _was_ listening, but because he had steeled his face, it appeared as if he was ignoring her. Thinking to mend his mistake, all that he could say at the moment was a single observation.

He reached a hand and brushed past her upper lip.

"You have grease on your mouth," he said, showing her his fingers.

* * *

One of the first things he had discovered about himself after returning to the past, was that his impulses never changed. Despite knowing that he was only here to look for a lead on the Evil released by the Grail that God had spoken of, he still got himself embroiled in a matter that shouldn't have had concerned him.

"Hey, are you listening?" Serafall called out to him.

It was the morning of the next day, and already this heir of house Sitri was already right before him. Sighing, he already felt tired from his lack of sleep last night due to the constant pain, but now he had more things he had to deal with.

"You said you came here for a warning of sorts," he replied.

Serafall nodded her head. "Exactly. You were able to push back those Old Satan activists, but you aren't in the clear yet. Because you defeated them, it's even more likely that several of them will come in retaliation."

He thought back to the Devils of the Old Satan Faction he had faced before. Even for Devils, they were on the weaker side, more so when they began to run. If more of them came, then it shouldn't be too difficult for him to repel them once again. Besides, he could see it in Serafall's eyes. She was trying to rope him in and get him involved further.

"Then I will push them back once more," he said evenly. The people living in the lands of Marbas had suffered enough. To force them out of their homes that they had just begun to remake was not something he wished to do.

Serafall's lip twitched. "You're strong alright? I saw it for myself, but do you think you can protect everyone here if an entire garrison of Old Satan activists came?"

He shook his head to Serafall's questioning. "It isn't about what I can or can't do. Those people have suffered enough, and I don't wish for them to panic and leave behind the things that they hold dear. Look at them,"

He beckoned forward with his hands towards the townsfolk who had recovered enough from their injuries to work. Through their efforts, they had built far more shelters than just the large one he had built alone. In fact, homes were being remade from the wood of the nearby trees. The atmosphere itself was hopeful and without fear.

Serafall's gaze softened as she stared at both him, and then to the people.

To begin with, Serafall never wanted for there to be a Civil War. She, like many other Devils who had participated in the War between the Factions, was tired of all the fighting and bloodshed. To come back from a war between enemies, only to find out that more enemies lay in wait in the mother land was a debilitating blow. Her sister would be born soon, and this wasn't the kind of world she wished Sona to be born in. Therefore, she had put all her efforts into creating a world where her sister could be happy.

Looking at the residents of the town ruled by Marbas, Serafall felt more than ever that she had to pull such a gentle Devil to her side. She could see it in his expression. He too, like her, didn't wish to see others suffering. The power he had displayed before left standing, his character alone was admirable. To work for others before himself, to feed others before himself, they were all things she had observed him doing.

And this observation was done because she had never once met an offspring of Marbas like him. The eldest son had already died in the Great War, and he was a ruthless killer. She had wanted to see if this young Lord was the same, but everything was contradictory.

She felt that her mouth had suddenly gone dry as she thought of something to say that could persuade this young Lord of Marbas. She had a shelter not too far off from the land ruled by Marbas, but it would be a difficult journey for lower-ranked Devils. Which is why she didn't feel confident of convincing Marbas to come with her.

So long as it troubled the people, Marbas wouldn't be swayed.

This was the kind of person he was, and in a deeper part of her, her admiration was burning like a fierce flame.

She sighed. Signalling with her hands towards the Devils in her faction who were waiting a distance away for her orders.

As the heir of house Sitri, her authority was unquestionable to those that were under her command. This was the case for the Devils under allegiance of her house.

With the movement of her fingers, it was clear that she was conveying for them to lay low.

"Then I suppose that I have no choice but to remain here for now," Serafall said.

He didn't respond. Not only was the pain keeping him from thinking straight, but he didn't want to risk alerting others of his weakness by talking. Therefore, he now possessed an impassive expression over his face as he simply nodded to Serafall. To be able to maintain his current form for as long as he had, it went to show just how strong-willed he was.

Standing up, he then walked towards the direction of the townsfolk and almost naturally, he began to work with them to rebuild what was once destroyed while mulling over his thoughts. Based on what Serafall had told him, the Old Satan Faction would definitely be sending more activists to investigate what had occurred here. When that point came, he would have to once again defend the townspeople, however, he knew he couldn't do so forever. He didn't belong in this timeline, and would have to eventually leave the townsfolk to accomplish his goal. Despite knowing that, the feeling of abandoning them didn't sit well with him.

He had already thought it over. If he hadn't appeared in this timeline, then the townsfolk in the land of Marbas would all probably be dead. Yet, could he just stand by and let that happen just because it already had? He refused to accept such an answer.

To make sure that the Old Satan Activist didn't come again, he would have to get his message across. For that, he knew that blood must be spilt no matter how unwilling he was to do it. Sometimes, things just had to get done.

A cold resolve entered his eyes, just as sharp as the twinkle of a blade's edge.

And Serafall who had been watching him felt a shiver travel down her back. Opening and closing her trembling hands, she stared at the image of him helping the lower-class Devils and then related it to the cold resolve she had seen moments before.

There was more to Marbas than meets the eye.

More so when she noticed the little Devil girl once again approach the new Lord.

Adelina stood in front of Shirou, her face set in determination, and small hands balled into fists.

Looking at her, Shirou put aside what he was doing to give her his attention.

"I want to be strong," she voiced lowly. "Daddy's gone so I have to be the one to protect mama."

"Even if you know it's dangerous?" Serafall asked, stepping forward. Just from her aura alone, it was clear that Serafall too, was a High-Class Devil.

Adelina shivered from the aura, but she didn't back down. The kind Lord was near her, and that was more than enough. Ignoring Serafall, she bowed in Shirou's direction again, feeling nervous when he stared at her.

A thump echoed by her ear, and when she glanced up, it was too see that the young Lord had created a small wooden sword for her to use. The young Lord's face was impassive as always, but his actions were more than enough to convey his character.

He was kind.

A Kind Lord.

Taking the wooden sword in her hands, Adelina looked at Shirou unsurely.

"To be strong, one must practice," he said. "Moreover-"

Adelina's stomach growled.

"Hunger is the enemy, so fight until you're strong enough so that hunger never comes again," he said patting her head while pushing a package of wrapped food into her hands.

Adelina's intentions were something he could agree with and support. Therefore, he had no qualms with teaching her a thing or two of the mediocre sword skills he knew of. In a way, the current situation was similar to when he had first asked the King of Knights for lessons of the sword. All he wanted was to be able to protect those he cared about, and this sentiment was identical to the one Adelina was currently expressing.

"If one swings long enough, and hard enough, you'd be surprised to discover that you've become strong. Remember this clearly, for under the blade of a master swordsman, even the most fearsome of Dragons can become nothing more than bigger swallows. Now run along, your mother's probably waiting for you," he said under Adelina's blank gaze.

Adelina eventually composed herself, bowed, then quickly left much to Serafall's amusement. Serafall then turned to Shirou who was about to move elsewhere after helping the others rebuild.

"A Dragon no more than a swallow?" She said with a laugh. "A being of ultimate power reduced to a bird, I'll have to remember that the next time someone speaks of the battle between the Red and White Dragons."

"You'd be surprised in the truth of the statement," he spoke leisurely.

It wasn't only the technique that he had copied from the sword of the Assassin, Sasaki Kojiro, but the man's philosophy as well; for tracing didn't just perfectly recreate a weapon, but it allowed him to witness the history of its past wielders.

And the man known as Sasaki Kojiro may as well have had been capable of such a feat.

Pausing in his steps, he arrived at the very borders of the lands ruled by the late old man Marbas. Serafall was behind him, and when he began drawing a line into the earth, she gave him a puzzled look.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

The land by the borders was desolate. A sparse plain of cracked earth and clouds of dust that blew in the gentle breeze.

"If the Old Satan Faction wishes to come, then let them come," he said coldly. "But should they pass this line, I can't guarantee their lives."

"Oh, you sound confident," Serafall said picking up her own stick before helping Shirou. "Can you do it alone though? I'm sure that you understand that there's more than one way to enter old man Marbas's land than the spot you're marking here."

"I know that already, therefore, it's just a matter of objective," he replied, putting away the stick he had used to mark the line with. "Strictly speaking, their here for me."

"That is indeed the case," Serafall nodded before crossing her arms. "It would be odd if they were to send so many Mid and High-Rank Devils to eliminate a town of Low-Class Devils."

Serafall observed him quietly. In her mind, she was debating about the powers she had seen him exhibit and gauging whether it would be enough to survive. Power aside, she was curious about his ability to make swords out of nothing. She had heard of God and his Sacred Gears, but those weapons were granted upon humans. It was only recently that Ajuka perfected the Evil Piece System which allowed for the integration of Sacred Gears into Devil-kind, but even then, pure blooded High-Ranked Devils didn't possess them. After all, that would mean that they were once human and were reincarnated.

As Shirou was a descendant of Marbas in Serafall's eyes, the mystery surrounding him only grew deeper.

Shirou nodded to Serafall's words before speaking.

"That is why I will remain here. My aura should be enough to draw them towards me," he said.

"You'd use yourself as bait?" Serafall asked incredulously.

She had met many types of Devils, but even for her, this was a new experience.

"Why?" She ended up asking.

"You don't need a reason to help others," he said calmly. "It's who I am, and who I will continue to be."

The two fell into silence as Shirou propped his back against a tree and then sat down to wait. He didn't know how long it would take before the Old Satan Activists would arrive, therefore it was for the best that he remain where he was to prevent any harm to Adelina and the rest.

Serafall's mouth twitched before her eyes softened when she mulled over Shirou's words.

"You act like a Magical Hero," she expressed her observation, dancing on the balls of her heels before coming to a rest beside Shirou. "Your reasons for fighting I mean and those magic symbols on your body."

Closing his eyes to mitigate the pain he was feeling, he answered Serafall dismissively. "I suppose," he said.

Nodding her head, Serafall spoke again.

"Then what does that make me who's accompanying the Magical Hero?"

"A Magical Girl," he said without much thought.

"?" Serafall gave him a questioning look from the specific term, but chose to just note it to heart in the light banter.

The two sat there for a while until Serafall got bored and would occasionally leave to entertain herself. Unknown to him, she was actually using those times to order her followers to set up a defensive perimeter around the residents. One way or another, she'd decided to make a base of operations in the land of Marbas.

Meanwhile, Adelina had somehow stumbled upon his position and would train there day after day, swinging that wooden sword until sweat began dripping down from her brow. As she asked for pointers, he was happy to oblige her. And so time would soon pass.

A day went by, and then two.

Gradually, he became accustomed to the pain of his current form and was able to at least relax as the inhabitants of the town recovered.

It was only later that the Old Satan Activists would come.

* * *

"Do you truly mean to stay here my Lady?" A Devil in a masked attire asked. The rest of his body was shrouded in a black mantle. "You know you are needed on the battlefield to help put an end to this Civil War once and for all. We don't even know when the Angels and Fallen may attack again. In our state of Civil War, I fear there will only be even more causalities."

"I will remain here for the time being," Serafall spoke with a conflicted expression.

"For the young head of house Marbas?" The masked Devil questioned.

"It is exactly for that reason," Serafall said. "You and the others may not be able to understand it, but there's something about him that makes me feel that he could help change things in this war. Call it a hunch if you will, but just by his character alone, he is someone worthy of admiration. He is someone that the underworld needs."

There was a silence after Serafall's words that only drew longer when the masked Devil sighed.

"Is this because of the marriage?" The masked Devil asked. "You know your mother only did it to create stronger ties to the other Noble families."

Serafall's face darkened. "No, it has nothing to do with that. Besides, I don't want to get married right now."

Shaking her head, Serafall dismissed the masked Devil before taking the time to walk towards the place where Marbas spent his time. During the course of the few days, she had ordered her men to set up base around the lands of house Marbas. As such, numerous houses and fortifications soon rose up from the dirt after her followers began renovating. She was sure that Marbas must have taken notice of her actions by now, but the man didn't even say anything in response. The only acknowledgment she got was a cool nod that seemed to convey every sentiment the man had.

She was amused if anything from that kind of response, and unknowingly began putting more effort into her plans in an attempt to get him to speak. There was just something about the gentleness in his voice that offset his rough yet handsome appearance. More than that, she was enjoying the time she spent here.

Here she wasn't Serafall, the Ice Devil of the New Satan Faction, but just Serafall, the eldest of house Sitri. And it was a welcome change in her life that was once full of violence and betrayals.

The base she was making here, was the one she felt that she enjoyed staying at the most, and this clearly wasn't just because the food was good. Even if she harboured thoughts of kidnapping the son of Marbas when the Civil War was over to become her personal chef, she wouldn't be too greedy. She'd only borrow him at least twice in a day.

She nodded her head as she glanced at the refurbished buildings and shops that were once destroyed. Her mood only further lifted when she saw the smiles on the people's faces. In the end, this was what she was fighting for. A world where everyone could smile. A place her little sister could proudly call home.

Looking up towards the sky and gauging her surroundings, she realized that she was almost at her destination after passing through the remade town.

Like always, Marbas was there, an impassive expression on his face even as he taught the sword to the little Adelina while leaning his back against a tree.

And just like always, she would walk by his side and sit opposite of him, trying to get a reaction out of the would-be-Hero.

However, today was different.

Her expression dimmed as the feel of the magical energy in the air assaulted her senses.

"Adelina, it's enough for today," Marbas suddenly spoke grimly.

Adelina was puffing from her exertion as she paused in surprise. However, she would never question the words of her Lord and immediately stopped and decided to return to her mother.

She gave a quick farewell before departing, giving a bow to Serafall before bowing deeper towards the son of Marbas.

 _Cheeky kid,_ Serafall thought amusedly as she watched Adelina leave. Assuming that if they were both High-Class Devils, then the level of respect should be the same for both her and Marbas. Yet evidently the kid was biased.

Amused as Serafall was though, she knew that it was time to be serious.

The rustle of the dirt alerted Serafall that Marbas was getting up. He had a tall and imposing figure, the muscles beneath his skin taught and firm as he moved.

Just as Marbas stood up, several dozen Devils stood opposite to him. From the energy they were outputting, Serafall could easily discern that they were an entire group of High-Ranked Devils.

Leading them was a pair of a man and a woman. The man wore a high-collared tunic beneath a flowing blue mantle while the woman was covered in a cloak.

"To think that the oldest of the Sitri line would be here," the man spoke. "It's understandable then why so many of us were defeated before. Edward Valefor at your service my Lady."

Serafall didn't reply. Instead, she simply began gathering her magical power as the air around her began to drop with the appearance of frost on the ground.

As for Shirou, he was being largely disregarded. Even if everyone present thought of him as a High-Class Devil, amongst other High-Class Devils he didn't particularly stand out. Yet this wouldn't do. He at least had to make one thing known.

"Leave now," he said sternly, his voice piercing like daggers. "For that line in front of you is as your life."

It was only after Shirou spoke that the High-Class Devils on the Old Satan Faction took the time to glance down at the crudely drawn line on the ground before grinning smugly.

"And who's this? Another High-Class Devil? Which lineage do you hail from?" Edward Valefor asked mockingly before shaking his head. "No, what really matters is whose side do you stand on?"

Pacing along the edges of the drawn line, Edward Valefor glanced up at Shirou before speaking once more.

"Normally I wouldn't be wasting much time on speaking to someone who appears to be an enemy, but as your strength is that of a High-Class Devil, it is worth attempting to persuade you," Edward said. "Now will you aid in the supremacy of the Devil race against the other factions, or will you remain where you are now as a peace lover?"

Finished speaking, Edwad crossed the line.

"So what happens now?" Edward goaded.

Serafall stared at Marbas, watching him for what he would do at this clear provocation. To her surprise, he did nothing as more and more of the High-Class Devils of the Old Satan Faction stepped across the line.

"Kuro?" She couldn't help but call out.

"See, he was all talk! Of course a single High-Class Devil wouldn't be able to defeat all of us," Edward Valefor mocked.

However, Edward furrowed his brows at the next moment.

"Sister?" Edward called, looking at the cloaked woman.

Out of everyone, she was the only one who hadn't crossed the line. She had the distinct feeling that her brother and everyone else was making a mistake. This feeling only grew worse when she realized that the unknown High-Ranked Devil's eyes would stare hard at all those that had passed over the line. Even now, those eyes were currently on her, waiting to see what decision she would make.

Under that gaze, she wasn't able to move.

"Edward, I think that maybe we should call father for this," the woman in the cloak pursed her lips. "Besides, the Ice Devil is here too."

Edward furrowed his brows. "All the more reason for us to act. Father has no time for such things, and if we can defeat the Sitri Heiress than it would be a great merit."

The cloaked woman swallowed, yet still didn't move.

"Fine then, you can stay where you are. I and the rest should be enough anyway," Edward relented when it came to his sister.

Sneering, Edward and the rest began making their way towards Serafall and Shirou.

The frost around Serafall immediately became a blizzard of snow. She had long since been preparing her powers, and had only been holding back to see what it was that Marbas had up his sleeve. However, she was disappointed to see that the man himself had not done anything.

Furrowing her brows, she placed herself at the front and glared at the Devils before her. From her hands, layer upon layer of cold mist began exuding out in a cloud-like fashion that formed icicles in the air.

She glanced at Shirou in warning even as her mouth spoke. "Get back, I'll-"

The words caught in her throat, a tremor running through her body that made it feel as if she was choking.

W-What is this?

Her shoulders grew heavy as her breathing quickened.

Evidently, she wasn't the only one. Edward's face paled immediately, and some of the other High-Class Devils that had come with him were already struggling on the ground. They were writhing, as if fighting some nefarious energy. It was only when she scrutinized them did she see a black ink-like substance crawling up from their legs. Just from the expressions that appeared on their faces, she could tell that they were experiencing a pain like none other.

That energy, it was Evil. Like a tainted water.

Edward's expression fell, and it was only when he noticed the shock on his sister's face did he shift his gaze to stare at the Devil they were once ridiculing.

The black patterns on the Devil's body seemed to be alive. Shifting over his skin as the energy around him soared without bounds.

"Y-You what are you!?" Edward yelled in fear.

He wasn't the only one who'd grown frightful, nearly everyone that had crossed the line were in a similar state.

After all, the power that Shirou was using was a reflection of all the World's Evil itself. The Sins of the World gathered upon a single being.

Serafall shivered, but didn't show any fear. It was all because she was reminding herself that the Devil beside her was a Devil who cared for those that were weaker. Even going as far as to help train a young girl in the ways of the sword.

Yet this kind of power?

She didn't feel it before when Shirou last fought against the Old Satan Faction because she was too far away and had only arrived to see him standing in the midst of the magic circle of Marbas.

But now?

T-This wasn't the strength of a simple High-Class Devil.

Her breath hitched as she flooded her body with power to stabilize herself. She who was an Ultimate-Class was forced into a situation where she had to defend herself even without being the recipient of the power's attack.

Just what kind of situation was this?

She took one step back, then two as she used her hands to shield her face from the chaotic aura Shirou was releasing.

Serafall's eyes then widened into saucers as her own powers grew agitated. It was a primal feeling, something that compelled her to follow.

 _The strength of demons,_

 _The root of each Devil's power._

 _And the origin of the true Demons of the Ars Goetia, the lesser Keys of Solomon._

Like a torch, a black flame seemed to exude around Shirou as he approached the Devils in the Old Satan Faction. The black magic patterns around his body seemed to writhe and twist into haunting images of times immemorial.

 _He who bore all the World's Sins exuded the power of a Demon like none other._

For the original sin was what birthed the legions of the Seventy-Two.

"I' **ve wa** rne **d you** ," his voice was distorting as he spoke. " **That line, was as your life. And you all have cut it short.** "

This was not the strength of a High-Class Devil.

This could barely even be registered as a strength _of_ a Devil.

This was an existence at the pinnacle of the Ultimate-Class.

Someone who could be counted amongst the overwhelming might of the Underworld Faction's two strongest Aces.

The Crimson Satan, and the Genius Ajuka Astaroth.

This was Marbas, Leader of what would eventually be known as the Marbas Faction.

In his hands, a sword appeared, his face impassive as he arrived directly in front of the Devils of the Old Satan Faction.

Edward struggled to peer up, yet even as he did so, his teeth began to chatter.

And all he saw while looking up at that impassive face, was a Devil like none other.

* * *

 **Thanks for Reading!**

 **P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious**


	20. The Sword and the Underworld: Part 5

Fear is only that of the mind. A mechanism to warn one of danger, yet in the end, it could be overcome. However, this wasn't the case for the current situation.

From the heaviness of the air, to the way the scenery around seemed to blend into a myriad of shapes and colours, Edward was far from being able to overcome the fear welling from within him.

He was a High-Class Devil, a nobility born with the pedigree to stand above others. In fact, he even had aspirations of becoming an Ultimate-Class, Devils of power who could only be admired and never provoked. This rule was iron clad in his mind ever since he was a child and had met his Great-Grandfather, the head of house Valefor and an Ultimate-Class Devil.

The gap between a High-Class and an Ultimate-Class was like the gulf that separated the Heavens and the Earth. Utterly unbridgeable aside from a few exceptions, and Edward knew clearly that he _wasn't_ one of those exceptions.

 _Eyes as cold as frigid ice with the smoothness of mirrors._

Edward began to shiver, and the monster in front of him had yet to even reach him, the voice playing within his ears like some kind of sick curse.

 _""That line, was as your life. And you all have cut it short."_

No.

No! This wasn't how it was supposed to be!

Even if Serafall, the eldest of the Sitri house was rumoured to have recently crossed levels into the Ultimate-Class, he was confident that he could defeat her with numbers before she could adjust to her new strength.

But reality was cruel. To think that she would be associated with this kind of freak.

Just from the feel of the monster's energy before him, this Devil was an Ultimate-Class that even stood far above other Ultimate-Class Devils, and he had provoked him?

Off in the distance, Edward's sister had long collapsed to her knees, her face pale and hands pressed over her mouth. She didn't move.

No one did.

The pressure was just too suffocating.

Even Serafall, who had prided herself to a degree for reaching the Ultimate-Class was unable to utter a word. Her mind was blank, but her body reacted on its own. Her hairs rose on end, and her arms crossed around her chest to quell the trepidation she was feeling.

And in the midst of it all, the monster in question didn't seem to pay any heed to the reaction of others, moving forward as if that was all that mattered.

Perhaps, because it was.

No matter how Shirou wished to suppress it, or refuse to acknowledge it, a part of him was screaming out for murder. An influence from the animosity a sole individual had for those that had condemned him or chose to disregard him to keep a better peace of mind.

 _Hypocrites, hiding behind the guise of necessity._

 _Why me and no one else?_

It was a role that didn't distinguish between others, so long as one would bear the burden.

 _Yet why did no one come to help?_

 _Hate them, curse them, because that was all that there was left to do._

The bitter sentiments and negative emotions were mixing in with the pain Shirou was currently enduring, making it difficult to focus on anything. Like crawling ants, those bitter sentiments then seemed to morph into something tangible, the pith of curses itself. And he could feel them clambering over the ground.

Unable to be seen, they were wrapping themselves around Edward and the other High-Class Devils and were the true source of the pain they were feeling.

Even then, other than the influence All-the-World's-Evil was having on his mind, another power was only propagating it.

The strength of a Devil. The bloodline of the Seventy-Two Pillars assimilated into him through the King piece which amplified his strength by a staggering degree.

There was a reason why even in the modern age, the peerage system lacked King Pieces, and he was beginning to understand why.

It was a force unlike anything other. It was as boundless as the sea, and it was still growing.

 _The Red King, the symbol of the one who leads._

Within him, the King piece was unlike any of the other King pieces ever created. A tower plagued by the harmony of three powers, the concept of the Trinity. A Holy number in the Christian faith, and that number held weight even in other religions. The Trinity of three, representing the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and in other beliefs, the Sea, the Earth, and the Sky.

 _A concept derived from prayer._

Within him, the King piece's red luster was dimmed as shades of black and white fought for supremacy, yet at the moment, the white was almost entirely suppressed, the tower solely a combination of black and red.

The two energies were compatible, one bolstering the other to produce an energy not seen since the ancient times.

"-!"

The Demons of the original Seventy-Two Pillars of the Ars Goetia.

 _The Demon with the head of a Lion._

 _Marbas._

A magic seal shook the very ground as it appeared in a blinding flash beneath Shirou's feet. Ash rose to the air as ancient gears seemed to shift in and out of reality, clouds of dust swept up into spires reaching towards the purple sky.

He the one standing in the center was like a flame, his aura rising uncontrollably until one could see a figure forming in the flickering energy. The head of a lion whose open maw seemed able to encompass all. A long mane of brilliant fur encompassing its visage.

"M-Marbas," the colour seemed to drain from Edward and the others faces as they swallowed. "Great Demon of the Seventy-Two Pillars."

Serafall was beyond just shocked, she was rooted in place. Who were the Demons of the Seventy-Two Pillars if not the Strongest beings of the Underworld that ever existed? The progenitors of the current generation of Devils. They who ruled the Legions of Old.

What did it mean for the Great President of Hell's visage to form behind Kuro's back?

 _The purity of his blood was like none other._

If one were to ask her who would be in any position to dictate the current rulings of the Underworld she would have no doubts that it would be the man before her. He who was as close to the original Demons of the Seventy-Two as any other.

An inaudible roar seemed to ring in everyone's ears at the next moment, followed by the breaking of the wind, producing violent zephyrs that shot out in all directions.

Serafall shielded her eyes before forming a thin wall of ice to protect her. Even then, she stared warily as hair-line cracks began to form over the ice's surface.

"So, this was what Old Man Marbas was hiding," Serafall pursed her lips as she muttered. It was too unbelievable yet awe inspiring. An heir comparable to that of the original Seventy-Two.

The power he must contain wasn't just Ultimate-Class, it must be several times more.

If word ever got out of Kuro's existence, she paled just thinking about the results.

But even before she could ponder on it further, the situation began to change again.

Shirou's speed increased, bridging the distance in an instant and cratering the ground while the Magic circle of house Marbas erupted from around him, writhing with tendrils of energy.

Yet Shirou didn't even notice these changes, instead, he was attempting to end this entire matter as soon as possible simply because he feared passing out from the exertion.

Perhaps it was only the aura of God himself who was able to counteract both the might of All-the-World's-Evil and the power of the Red-King piece. However, God was lying dormant and allowing the darker aspect within him to occupy the most space.

As such, the feel of his energy was growing darker and darker. Something that the Devils could only worship in praise. For it was an aura worthy _of_ that praise.

Yet at the cost of his own mind?

He could feel himself losing it in the same way a single individual once had under the same burden, but he refused to give up. A sword was meant to be swung. This power, a means to an end. The fires of the forge giving birth to the sharpest of swords. Tempered through pain, hardened through will, what lied beyond the boundary was something that had no meaning in obtaining.

But even so, all he could do was take one step forward at a time towards the only goal he could ever strive for without regrets.

 _To be a hero. The Ally of Justice._

His feet stopped directly in front of Edward Valefor, and the silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

By now, neither Edward or the other High-Class Devils could move, petrified by fear, bodies festered with curses.

There was no resistance.

Not even when swords formed in the air and loomed overhead.

This was the privilege of power, a suppressing effect on others only amplified due to one important fact.

When God transcended worlds and arrived within the Grail in Shirou's world, God met the part of himself on the other side. The one who was an existence that was unparalleled even if its presence had grown minute over the eons. Much like Shirou and Archer, the two shared a resonance, memories shifting between one and the other. Powers, experiences, they could all be said to come from the same person, and yet there were differences.

The Lesser Keys of Solomon, and the one hailed as the Grand-Caster.

In God's world, God had granted the man known as Solomon 'wisdom,' and with it, Solomon made a pact between the Seventy-Two Pillars of the Underworld through mutual understanding.

In the other God's world where Shirou originally came from, Solomon had the means to 'control' the demons of the Ars Goetia. And this translated into a suppressive effect should the demons go against him.

The High-Class Devils before Shirou now weren't those original Demons, but they were descendants instead. Therefore, the effect was many times weaker. Yet it still existed.

The reason that Solomon was well known in both worlds, was that it didn't matter in which world it was. He was the sole human able to command the powers of the Ars Goetia.

King Solomon of Isreal.

And the God who gave Solomon that right was arguably within Shirou.

Edward and the other High-Class Devils didn't so much as let out a scream as the swords descended on them, taking away their lives.

In the end, it was already too late for them. The curses on their body had already rendered them immobile, and the suppressive effect, no matter how small, still had a phycological impact.

They didn't even know that they had died the moment they died.

A scream echoed out in the air.

Edward's sister lurched back in fear, her expression grief stricken and panicked. Her legs were trembling, and she was backing up from the crude line in front of her using her feet to push off the ground.

That crude line that he had once drawn had become something of extreme danger in Edward sister's eyes.

As Edward sister backed away, Shirou sighed before kneeling down and closing the eyes of the Devils he had slain. He never enjoyed killing, but he would do what was necessary.

He had to make sure that he thoroughly dissuades anyone from laying harm to the people he was protecting in this spot of land.

Yet such a thing could never be guaranteed. However, it didn't stop him from trying.

His eyes closed before he focused inwardly on himself, ignoring Edward's sister as she took off to flee into the air. He had other matters to take care of.

The magic seal that stemmed from him shone with a radiant luster.

Marbas, the president of Hell and He who teaches the mechanical arts. Brandished within the magic seal of house Marbas was a formation not known to any of Marbas's descendants, for its sheer complexity was not something that could be understood.

Yet through Shirou's eyes, the ground work was clear as day.

 _Trace on._

A schematic appeared within his head, lines of magical energy tracing that which led to the origin of one's creation. The basis of form projected clearly within his mind through his eyes gleaming with the light of magic.

Structural Analysis.

A spark exploded from within his head, giving birth to a means.

His hands clapped together, a thrum resounding within the magic seal around him as it rotated and expanded.

He who once governed the Legions as the President was tasked with the safety of those below him within the original Seventy-Two.

And this task manifested in the creation of the magic seal whose sole duty was not one of devestation and ruin, but of protection and insurance against all those who would harm its brethren.

Two pillars of demonic light shot up into the sky at the very edges of the magic circle which now stretched to encompass the entirety of the lands the user claimed as its own.

A gasp left Serafall's mouth, and even the others watching, for the sight was not something ever seen since the ages of old. For it wasn't just because of complexity that future descendants of Marbas were unable to utilize it, but requirements.

"Ig-Alima, Sul-Sagana,"

 _Divinity._

Monstrous swords came into existence, radiating a power that shocked many as they shot off into the pillars of demonic light around the boundary of the magic circle. One left a trail of fiery flames that reduced the land around it into smoldering rocks and ashes, and the other crushed everything flat with its immense size.

The two weapons were Divine Constructs, yet they weren't perfect. Rather, they were hollow knock-offs, but they still contained the divinity necessary.

When Sul-Sagana integrated with the pillar of demonic light, the pillar burst into dark flames that spewed bits and pieces of hellfire like spittle as the flames churned.

Ig-Alima was different, for it simply stood there erected, a mountain immovable as it merged with the demonic light, losing the properties that made it a mountain felling sword. Instead, it would be a protector.

The toll was something Shirou would have had never considered possible for him, but in this moment, it _was_ for he had used the seemingly endless supply of energy he currently had.

The magic circle of Marbas shook violently, before a transparent wall of magical energy encompassed the entirety of the magic circle.

 _A barrier created from the divinity of two divine constructs and the intelligence of the Devil known to have taught mankind mechanical means._

 _The Demon of the original Seventy-Two who used captured Seraphim as a method to aid its kin._

Shirou had a deeper understanding of that Demon, for he understood it the moment he laid eyes on the magic circle around him.

The magic cricle's defensive abilities were unquestionable, giving him a piece of mind. Unlike the original Marbas, he didn't use the Divinity of Seraphim, but the Divinity of Divine constructs, therefore the barrier was weaker. However, it would be a folly to underestimate the strength of a magic barrier created from one of the original Seventy-Two Pillars.

All enemies would have no choice but retreat under it. For only those with the power equivalent to divinity could breach it. On top of that, he still needed one more push to prevent any thoughts of invasion out of the minds of others.

As the magic circle formed, Edward Valefor's sister had already escaped far into the distance, and yet, even where she was, she could see that resplendent barrier marking the lands of Marbas.

She shivered at the next moment, her hands pooling with cold sweat.

Because when she turned back, all she saw was a sky filled with swords, and the sharpest of all staring down at her without expression.

Those limpid bronze-coloured eyes struck a fear in her heart that would last for an eternity.

And at the same time, those that witnessed the scene, both inside and outside were unable to utter a sound.

It didn't matter if it was Serafall's followers, or the scouts sent by the Old Satan Faction observing in the distance, both were clear of one fact.

On this land protected by Swords, a Legend was born.

* * *

Shirou made sure that no enemies were around him before his expression faltered.

The strong body that seemed as sturdy as bed-rock caved, collapsing against the ground. The toll he had endured was not something that any other man could have had maintained. He was exhausted, and still he was unwilling to let go of his current form simply because others were relying on him.

He knew that he would eventually have to leave, and this was also why he had forced himself to activate the mechanism he had found within the magic seal of Marbas. And the key to activating that seal was currently with him in the form of a red jewel carved with the image of a lion in his palm.

Before he would leave to find the trail left behind by the Grail in this world, he would make sure to give the key to someone trustworthy.

Gasping for breath, he felt it when an arm wrapped around him to support him.

"Geeze, you, you're full of surprises, aren't you?" Serafall spoke.

His stature when compared to hers was far larger. Therefore, it was an odd sight with Serafall tucking herself into the crook of his arm and leveraging him up through it.

He was too disorientated to care.

Serafall grasped onto him tightly, the feeling of her hands was soothing as their cold seemed to dull the pain. The way her body seemed to fit snuggly against his as she was carrying him only caused him to relax further. Which was a bad thing as it was then that his mind fully registered the sheer anguish his body was enduring and blacked out.

"H-Hey, Kuro!" Serafall called out to him.

Silence was her answer.

She pursed her lips, noticing the way Kuro's head was dangling.

The power he used definitely had to come with a price. Serafall glanced at the magic barrier erected up in the sky encompassing the lands of Marbas, and then thought to what she had just seen.

This place, she soon realized, had most probably become one of the safest areas in the underworld. From where she stood, she could feel the immensity of the magic seal's strength, not to mention the two swords that seemed to fuel the barrier's power.

Despite the questions she had in her mind, she had no one to answer them.

Still, she smiled fondly at the Devil she was carrying over her shoulder. To put himself under such strain for other Devils of a Lower-Class, she doubted that she would find another Devil like this in her lifetime. Sure, other Devils like Sirzech's could do it, but generally they'd do so for someone that they wanted to protect, yet Kuro did so for strangers.

Thinking about him, she thought about the way he would choose to live in the wilderness for the safety of the residents under him. She thought of the way he would give his time to teach a child the way of the sword. And despite how impassive he looked, inside, she knew he was probably a big softy.

"M-My lady, this? _He_ did this?" The voice of her masked attendant stopped her thoughts in place.

The masked Devil stepped out from the woods where he was observing the situation that had just occurred. Following the masked Devil were several other Devils that were loyal to the Sitri house.

"It's exactly as it looks," Serafall replied without missing a beat. "Kuro has a power that may not pale in comparison to Sirzech Gremory's."

A wryness entered Serafall's eyes in the next moment. "And for the sake of others, he would reduce himself to such a state to make a barrier to protect those behind him."

"And those swords," the masked Devil spoke reverently.

"And those swords," Serafall repeated exasperatedly. Even if those swords were powerful, she would rather focus on the righteousness of Kuro's actions. "Speaking of which, I had thought it was that Sacred Gear Sword Birth, but God granted Sacred Gears to humans. Its only been recently that Ajuka made the Evil Piece system to recruit those humans with Sacred Gears, so it's impossible that Kuro is in possession of one."

"Anything that comes from him is a mystery my Lady, however, one thing is fact," the masked Devil said. "The visage of Marbas, the President of the Seventy-Two Pillars was real."

As soon as those words escaped the masked Devil's mouth, the awe in everyone's faces couldn't be hidden. To start with, everyone present was a High-Class Devil or higher, meaning that even if Edward attacked, Serafall wouldn't have been in any danger. Yet the point of the matter was the education they received as High-Class Devils, something of which included the study of the original Seventy-Two Pillars. Therefore, they were all able to recognize the lion of the underworld's famous visage.

"The purity of his blood is almost equivalent to that of the original Marbas!" The masked Devil said in excitement. "Plus, the strength of this barrier…."

Wordlessly, Serafall nodded to the Devils around her who immediately understood her meaning. Thereafter, the masked Devil gave Serafall a knowing look with his eyes before moving to complete his task.

Serafall felt her mouth twitching just thinking about the way the masked Devil looked at her as if he knew what she was thinking. However, she shook her head to rid itself of such annoying thoughts to focus on the matter at hand.

Her brows furrowed.

Her clothes felt damp.

Pausing in her steps, she used a free arm to feel up her clothes, only to reel back when she stared at the liquid on her hand. It was to her horror that she realized that blood was leaking from Kuro's skin.

What kind of toll did Kuro have to endure?

Her eyes narrowed with determination, her pace increasing as she rushed off in the direction of the town that was developing.

Kuro needed rest, and she wouldn't allow him to rest in a forest with his injuries. Ignoring the blood on her, she immediately entered the town whose inhabitants consisted mainly of the locals under Marbas's rule.

Expectedly, a crowd was already gathered staring up at the barrier Kuro had created to protect them. Contrary to belief, the towns people weren't idle as Kuro fought. Instead, many had armed themselves with pitchforks, knives, and sticks, in hopes of assisting their Lord. After all, they were all Devils and they could feel the fluctuations of magical energy in the air from where Kuro fought.

At the forefront of the crowd stood Adelina with the wooden sword held firmly in her hands. It was clear to Serafall that the little girl was the first individual to instigate the formation of the crowd. She could even picture it as Adelina went from house to house asking others for help to help the Lord.

However, it was already too late as the battle ended far too quickly.

In fact, it wasn't even a battle as the High-Class Devils that had come were immediately overwhelmed from the start. Still, the state Kuro was in as a result was not something pretty.

When the towns people saw him, they stood rooted. Adelina seemed as if she was about to burst into tears. First it was her father that had left her, and now it looked like the kind Lord would too.

Immediately, the members of the crowd broke into action, many running over towards Serafall. Yet, one look from Serafall dissuaded them from trying to get Shirou out of her hands. After all, Serafall didn't even know the full extent of Shirou's injuries and didn't want to risk aggravating them by shifting his position.

Adelina stood directly in front of Serafall, looking lost as if she didn't' know what to do. Her large eyes were wide open, and there was a quiver in her lips. It seemed as if she was forcing herself not to cry.

Serafall patted her head. "He'll be fine," she said with determination. She then turned to those in the crowd. "Is there a place I can put him?" She inquired.

The others murmured amongst themselves before leading Serafall towards the current best building in the town. A small cottage-like home that contained a single bed positioned near a fireplace.

Lead inside, Serafall tentatively placed Shirou down before sighing when she realized that the other people were lingering within the room.

"He needs to rest," she told them. "It won't work very well if we all stay in here now will it?"

She had a point, and not many could argue with her. After all, the only reason they were still around was because they were concerned.

It started with one person leaving the room, before the others began to slowly follow. Each person that left would linger for a moment by the door, staring at Shirou before frowning and leaving.

One by one those people left, until Serafall took notice of the little girl that had sat herself next to Shirou's bedside clutching a wooden sword.

Serafall scratched at her neck before staring wryly at Adelina's mother who stood with a worried expression near her daughter.

In the end, no matter how much Adelina's mother tried to coax Adelina, Adelina refused to leave. As such, the mother could only apologize to Serafall before excusing herself to not make any trouble, asking Adelina to come home when she was able.

Adelina nodded stiffly, and soon it was only Adelina, Serafall, and Shirou in the room.

"He's not going to be going anywhere," Serafall shrugged her shoulders before sitting down in an available seat.

Adelina didn't reply back.

"Look, he's resting right now. That means he's going to be fine," Serafall said.

Adelina looked up from her position by the bed and her eyes were somewhat hollow.

"Mama said the same thing about papa, but papa's gone," was all Adelina said before glancing at the floor.

Serafall's cheek twitched, feeling as if she had nothing that she could say.

Serafall then shook her head before sighing. Standing up from where she had sat herself down, she began rummaging within the house for a clean rag. Finding nothing, she resolutely tore the hem of her clothing and pulled out an empty basin which she filled with water.

"What are you doing?" Adelina asked curiously.

Serafall raised a brow. "Kuro's covered in blood," she motioned towards Shirou. "I was going to wipe it off."

"Kuro?" Adelina seemed unused to the name.

"The person you call Lord Marbas," Serafall cracked a grin seeing the confusion on Adelina's face.

As soon as Serafall finished speaking though, Adelina's eyes immediately narrowed.

"That's too disrespectful. He's the young Lord!" Adelina insisted.

"And I'm not a Noble Lady?" Serafall asked incredulous.

Adelina paused and looked at Serafall up and down before replying.

"No," Adelina immediately said without pause.

 _You brat!_

Serafall was smiling at the moment, but her aura was contrary to her expression. Adelina didn't seem to care.

"If you were a Noble too, you would have had helped us and Old Man Marbas," Adelina mumbled. "If you were a Noble, you should have had helped young Lord Marbas, not return him bleeding and beaten."

Serafall's lips thinned as she fell into silence. After all, how was she to explain that Kuro's injuries were a result of the power he used? She had nothing to do with it. Then again, she _had_ been capable of ending the matter with her own power, thus feeling a tad guilty and being unable to rebuke Adelina's words.

"Fine then," Serafall relented. "Just call me Serafall from now on."

Adelina nodded stiffly as Serafall proceeded to place the basin down next to Kuro.

Wringing out the cloth, Serafall then carefully began working around Kuro's wounds to clean off the blood.

This sort of action wasn't something a lady of Serafall's upbringing had ever practiced, making her a bit awkward as she worked to remove the blood and grime. However, she persisted and eventually wiped away the most of it under Adelina's eyes.

Once Serafall finished, she sat down again in contemplation while Adelina moved over to stare at Shirou.

"I told you he'd be fine," Serafall said. It was a relief on her part when she noticed that other than the blood on Kuro's body, there were barely any wounds.

Evidently, Adelina could see that, and the little girl finally let out a sigh of relief.

Thereafter, a seriousness appeared in Adelina's eyes as she moved towards the door of the house.

"Where are you going now?" Serafall asked curiously. There was just something about Adelina at the moment that Serafall had to admire for a girl her age.

"I'm going to train," Adelina said while holding out her wooden sword. "I swear that one day I'll be strong enough to fight and protect those I care about."

Her words said, Adelina silently closed the door behind her as the sounds of a sword cutting air echoed into the room.

Left alone, Serafall tapped her feet against the ground as she pondered to herself. Looking at Shirou for a long moment, she eventually snorted before her expression turned solemn.

Kuro's was a power that could change the very balance of the current Civil War just as much as Sirzech's had. But evidently, it wasn't something he should be continually using if his current state was anything to go by.

In the end though, Kuro was still the one who could make his own decisions. The only thing that mattered for her right now was what _she_ would do. She was needed in the war effort, and she had spent at least a week or more with Kuro. Not that she didn't enjoy her time observing him, but she had things she still needed to do. Obligations to fulfill.

Biting her lips, she glanced down at her feet before moving towards the door.

She needed to think.

* * *

By the time Shirou realized that something was wrong, he already found himself back within a familiar cave, a burning bush before him.

"Your recklessness isn't something to be admired, yet your spirit's in the right place," the bush spoke. "If you continue what you're doing now, you may change things that may have already occurred in the future."

"…" He had no words to speak for himself. His actions were enough.

"It's true that I know that it's impossible for someone like you to sit still and watch as something horrible happens in front of you, but I still have to remind you that things _will_ change. Don't forget that we won't be staying in this timeline either. It's best if we can begin finding the traces left behind by the Grail at the site of my battle between the four Great Satans."

Shirou balled his hands into fists.

"I understand what you mean," he said stiffly. "But I can't just leave these Devils as they are either."

The flames around the bush twinkled as if approving of the answer. "And that is what makes you different from the rest. Very well, you may do as you wish, but know that it's you who must take responsibility for your actions. Are time is limited as I don't want my presence to be discovered, but at least I know where your priorities are."

Saying that, the world around Shirou began to shift while his body was once again overcome by the pain of All the World's Evil.

"Until next time," the burning bush said as the world faded away.

When next Shirou opened his eyes, he felt the softness of a bed beneath him and the stickiness of dried sweat over his skin.

Creasing his forehead, he propped himself up to discover that he was alone in a small house with little furniture. In fact, the most discerning thing within the premise was the fireplace which flickered with a dull orange.

Rubbing his temples, he swung his feet off of the bed and then pinched the bridge of his nose as a bout of dizziness struck him.

" **My power isn't one that's easily used without the Holy guy's aura mitigating the pain,** " A dark voice spoke. " **Though, you did well to tolerate it with the boost in power that King piece continued to output.** "

He winced when he moved his arms to pull the covers off of him.

" **Careful, you were subconsciously reinforcing your body when you were passed out. However, your body was used to your regular amount of energy and not the exceedingly large amount your body is now filled with. As a result…** "

The voice didn't have to continue as he could already understand that the energy he used to reinforce himself had surpassed the limits of his body. Therefore, bursting his blood vessels and causing him to bleed and injure himself in the first place.

Great, he thought. More pain.

" **If you've suffered enough, you could always let go of this power.** " The voice reasoned.

"And have you bear it in the meantime?"

The voice didn't speak again, though no words needed to be said to convey the voice's sentiments. It was both confused and feeling an emotion it hadn't felt in ages, gratitude.

Shirou knew that the curses currently plaguing him had to be stored somewhere, and at the same time, it wasn't difficult to infer where and who had to bear them. And that particular person had suffered enough. So even if it was momentarily, he wanted to give that man rest.

Suddenly, his ears perked up at a particular sound.

With the way the wind created zipping noises, he realized that it was the sound of sword swings.

Getting up on his feet, he composed himself before steadily walking towards the door to check just who was practicing near him. That, and to thank the owner of this house for his accommodation.

Once he opened the door, the first sight he saw was Adelina's wide-eyed expression in the yard, and then to the swelling of her hands.

Even before he could speak, the little girl had darted towards him in an instant, sword left behind as she held onto his leg.

"Y-You're okay," she murmured.

He only nodded his head as a response, careful to make sure that he wouldn't give away the pain in his voice. However, no matter what, he had to voice an issue.

He knelt down and took Adelina's hands into his own.

Just as he had seen before, her hands were swelled, blisters forming on her palms from how long she must have been swinging her sword.

"Practice is one thing," he spoke. "But hurting yourself in the process is another."

He placed Adelina's hands down and stared at the little girl. "You must have your own reasons to be strong, but training to self-injury will never lead to anything worthwhile. You can train hard now, but tomorrow it'll be impossible to use your hands to train."

Adelina nodded her head before wiping her eyes.

Everything would be alright so long as the young Lord was okay. At which point, Adelina then remembered her mother who was probably still waiting at home for her.

"I, I have to go," she said rather reluctantly.

Looking at Adelina, Shirou simply ripped off a piece of his clothing before wrapping it around Adelina's hands.

"This should help with the pain," he explained as he put the wooden sword back into her hands. "Take better care of yourself. You can't rush the path to getting stronger."

Adelina took Shirou's words and stored it in her mind.

Fidgeting, she backpeddled a short distance away from Shirou before bowing. The gratitude she felt was not small, rather, it was too large for her to express. Therefore, she expressed it in the best way that she knew how.

"Thank you!" She said with a bow, her hands clasped by her side. "For training me, I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you."

Shirou furrowed his brows when he realized that Adelina's words weren't just because of her gratitude. Rather, there was something more significant in it.

"Why must you thank me?" He asked in confusion.

Adelina glanced down, small hands calloused and blistered from swinging a wooden sword all day grasping tightly to the hem of her dress.

"Because I'm a Low-Class Devil."

Saying that, Adelina as though embarrassed, ran off back towards her home.

* * *

It didn't take him long to understand what Adelina meant after asking around.

For a Low-Class Devil, gaining strength and prestige wasn't something that was easy, it was almost impossible. The Rating Game Rias and Sona had once told him about for the Devil ranking system was not yet created. As such, the only ways for a Low-Class Devil to increase his or her class was through military achievement or fulfilling a substantial number of contracts with humans.

The latter option could take almost an eternity, and the former option was courting death for Lower-Class Devils. As such, most Lower-Class Devils like Adelina were commoners in the Underworld with no one having much expectations for their potential. As such, none would train them, for it was better to focus on those born with higher standing for they were naturally more inclined to a promising future.

With the Ranking System in the future, this was somewhat alleviated, but only the most talented of Low-Class Devils had the ability to be recruited into a High-Class Devil's peerage. Thus, the majority of Low-Class Devils would still remain as Low-Class Devils.

Admittedly, not all Low-Class Devils cared about advancing, content with just living out their lives, but there were many who did care. Not because they wanted to advance, but simply because they wanted to get stronger like Adelina for example.

Even if Adelina didn't admit it, he could already understand her need for strength. It was to be able to defend those that she cared about for if the Low-Class Devils always remained weak, then they would always be doomed under the hands of an oppressor.

The Civil War only made such matters more apparent, with many Low-Class Devils losing their lives from the fall out of the decisions of higher ranking Devils.

It wasn't right.

Looking around at the happy expressions on the people's faces, a sense of serenity filled him. Just like humans, everyone acted the same. They wanted to lead their lives without hardship and lay down the foundation for future generations. And this sort of scene in front of him was something worth protecting even if it meant changing the past.

Besides, with the barrier now up and maintaining itself, his worries about leaving had greatly subsided, and it would only be a matter of time now before his departure.

Furthermore, he was hopeful that the strong-front he delivered to the Old Satan Faction would heavily dissuade them from attacking anyway. There was just no gain to it. To breach the barrier, they would need a substantial amount of power, and to do so at the cost of the lives of Low-Class Devils? Most high rank devils wouldn't bother. More so when they had to consider the strength he had displayed to protect those Low-Class Devils.

Speaking of which, he wasn't the only one defending when Edward and the others crossed the crudely drawn line. Serafall was there as well.

When he had first woken up, he hadn't noticed it, but after walking around and observing, he realized that Serafall was nowhere to be found.

Strange.

With her personality, he was sure that the first face he would have had seen was her own looming over his with a smug kind of expression as she joked with him for passing out. Instead, she was gone.

Well, it was for the best he supposed. It wouldn't do to mix too deeply with characters like Serafall who would become important characters in the future. Going by his information, Sona was the younger sister of one of the future new four Great Satans, and that older sister was none other than Serafall herself. Therefore, he could already imagine what would happen if things went awry.

He shook his head.

Walking around the newly constructed town, it was with astonishment that he felt a sense of satisfaction in his heart when the others stared at him. After all, those stares conveyed their appreciation and gratitude for what he had done for them. Most of all, they were making the kind of expression a child would use when staring up at a personal hero.

And to them, he was there Hero.

Call it a small fulfillment of a child's dream, but he was immersed in the feeling. It was as if, more than ever, he felt that the path he was following was not something that was unattainable. All he would have to do was put in the effort.

Wordlessly, he integrated himself to begin working with the construction people to build more houses for those still living in make-shift tents. No matter how insistent the others were that a Devil such as himself shouldn't mix with them, they all fell silent when his impassive face glanced at them and dared them to argue.

He was already in enough pain, and helping others was his way of mitigating that pain. Standing around and wallowing in the intensity of All the World's Evil was never going to be one of Shirou's favorite pass-times. Instead, he immersed himself in both construction and food creation as he hunted day after day and subsequently cooked them.

As such, Serafall was astounded to hear the sounds of cheering when she eventually returned from her time thinking. Surprisingly, at her back was a literal sea of other Devils. From the power they emitted naturally, it was evident that they were all Low-Class Devils.

"We've brought them all my Lady," the masked Devil bowed along with several others.

"Good work," Serafall complimented. "With this, everyone should be safe."

It wasn't an exaggeration to say that the safest place in the underworld was the land of Marbas, and as such, she had gathered with her men all of the Low-Class Devils taking refuge in the other areas.

Serafall had been entertaining such a thought from the very moment she had laid eyes on the barrier surrounding the land. It wasn't activated right now, making it difficult for the other Lower-Class Devils she had brought to feel a sense of comfort, but they trusted her all the same.

"Begin the preparations," Serafall said in a pleasant mood as her nose twitched. "He's cooking right now, I can guarantee it."

"Understood," the Devils under Serafall spoke before leaving.

The only one's left in the area were Serafall and the other Low-Class Devils who were murmuring amongst each other.

The majority of them just couldn't understand it. From the sounds emitted from the town up ahead in the land of Marbas, it was clear that they were celebrating joyous occasions. Yet, how was that possible with the Civil War going on between the Old and New Satan Factions?

Even just remembering how life was for the Lower-Class Devils in other areas brought a somberness into the air; for that kind of life was simply too hard to cope with. Day by day, they feared a possible attack, never knowing when it was actually safe to go about their lives.

How could the difference between shelters be this large?

All the new Lower-Class Devils shifted their gazes on Serafall, curiosity evident in their eyes.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Serafall said gesturing for them to move onward. "I know the Devil in charge of this place. He's a very nice guy, and if we don't hurry, I'm certain the food will all be eaten up."

Saying that, a seriousness appeared in Serafall's eyes as her pace immediately increased. "Don't say I didn't warn you!" She called back in irritation when the Devils behind her stood rooted in place, stupefied.

It was only when they noticed Serafall leaving that they composed themselves enough to chase after her. And when they did, that was when the smell hit their noses. A mixture of fine spices and roasted meat all wrapped together into a single scent that caused mouths to water.

"S-She said food, didn't she?" One of the Lower-Class Devils clarified. When the others nodded, there was a small pause before the crowd burst into a sprint.

Food.

Just food alone was enough of a motivation to move forward. More often then not, the shelters they were forced to hide in only had a limited supply of food the people within could eat. Therefore, it was always rationed and resulted in constant hunger pangs.

With free food apparently waiting before them, there was no need for hesitation. Low-Class Devils as they were though, there was no way that they were able to keep up with Serafall's speed. As time past on, they lagged further and further behind, however, they wouldn't need to run further.

Up ahead, the sight of a small town could be seen. Many of the buildings and infrastructure seemed to be under construction, but they seemed sturdy enough. More importantly, everyone's gaze shifted towards the meat roast happening at the central plaza.

At the plaza, Serafall could already be seen scarfing down food at the side while the cook in question seemed to be staring at her in exasperation; though it was hard to tell with the way his expression barely shifted.

The noise of the crowd's approach wasn't lost to the local inhabitants who paused in their merry making to stare.

The crowd of foreign Low-Class Devils staggered to a halt as they stared at each other awkwardly, not knowing if they were welcome or not.

Shirou noticed this immediately before sending another glance at Serafall who shrugged her shoulders, intending to pass him the burden.

 _This woman._ If Shirou's face could twitch, it would definitely be twitching at the moment. He knew that it was odd that Serafall had disappeared, and it seemed as if she'd used the time to gather more Devils towards his location. Granted, it was probably because she knew that he would accept them regardless.

In harsh times, people needed to band together. However, it was always difficult on first encounters.

The locals in the land of Marbas didn't know how to react to the sudden arrival of numerous other Devils, but they wouldn't have to think for long.

Slowly, Shirou cut off a piece of meat from the roast and wordlessly arrived in front of the new Low-Class Devils.

"Eat," he said, passing the piece forward.

His actions were so smooth and natural that the other Low-Class Devils didn't know how to react in their stupor.

"What are you all waiting for?" Serafall called out to them in the distance. "That's the Lord of the land who gave you the food. It would be rude if you didn't eat it, no?"

"Aah?"

The Low-Class Devil Shirou had passed the food to stood with his mouth agape before tears welled in his eyes. "Thank you for your graciousness, Lord."

Shirou shook his head. "There's no need for the use of Lord. I'm no different from any other Devil. I'm just a man named Marbas. Now eat up, all of you."

Saying that, Shirou ignored the reverent expressions appearing on the Low-Class Devils faces to focus on a more important matter. He needed to hunt at least a couple more animals to roast for food with all the new Devils. Even from where he stood, it was a literal sea of Devils in front of him, and all were looking for food.

He sighed helplessly as he glared at Serafall with his eyes. A little warning could have had helped, but no. Out of everyone, he could already deduce who would be eating the most anyway.

Still, there was no use in fussing over something that's already passed. Taking a breath, he ran towards the open fields looking for more food to feed the newcomers.

A minute or so after he had left, Serafall glanced down at the Devils she had brought and grinned.

"I told you he was nice for an Ultimate-Class Devil," she said.

"U-Ultimate-Class?"

Everyone was astounded, and that included the local residents who had only believed Shirou to be a High-Class Devil. What made it even more surreal was that an Ultimate-Class Devil was serving Low-Class Devils.

Serafall nodded appreciatively. Old Man Marbas had raised a good son.

"More than just him treating everyone like an equal, with him around, you all won't have to worry about your safety. He may look like a tough man now, but he becomes even fiercer in the battlefield. He's a literal Monster," she shivered when she recalled the sheer power that had washed over her. "Definitely a monster."

And yet, he was a gentle one. One who cared about others more than he did himself. Just to activate a barrier and ward away danger, he reduced himself to a bloody mess.

His actions, and what she had seen were the biggest reasons why Serafall had taken such a long time to think. However, she had already come to a decision. When she was called upon by her friend Sirzech's to help in the warfront, she had refused much to Sirzech's confusion. She didn't bother explaining it to Sirzech simply because Sirzech wouldn't understand anyway.

Kuro, he, he was a Devil like none other, and she had decided on risking it all on a gamble.

She absently sunk her teeth into the food she was eating and the explosion of flavour once again caused her to melt. This taste was something definitely worth dying for even if it was unhealthy for her to eat so much.

Important matters aside, she would wait until Kuro was alone to discuss it with him and that time would come sooner rather than later.

After Shirou returned with more food and subsequently cooked it for all the Devils present, many of the Devils in the area began to doze off in content. There weren't enough accommodations for all of them, but many had no complaints as they just leaned their backs against a tree and rested.

In this time, Serafall made her move.

Walking slowly towards Shirou, she motioned with her fingers for him to follow her much to his confusion.

"Say, Kuro," Serafall began slowly as the two walked in the silence of the evening. "Do you know what those other Devils are calling you?"

"No," Shirou replied curtly. He hadn't bothered listening to others over throwing himself into work to keep his mind off of the pain.

"They call you a hero," she said softly. "Someone they wouldn't hesitate to fight for because you wouldn't hesitate to fight for them."

Shirou remained silent, knowing that Serafall seemed to have many things she wanted to say.

She scratched her head after fiddling with her beret, the action carrying a certain femininity to it in the dimness of the evening.

"You know, if you asked them to fight for you, or do anything for you, they wouldn't even waver to fulfill your wishes," she remarked. "Just from the number of Devils you have under you right now, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to think that this was the start of a new Faction in the underworld."

Shirou raised a brow. He had no intention of starting anything like what Serafall was saying. All he wanted to do was create a place where those seeking shelter could receive shelter. Before he could voice anything though, Serafall continued.

"Yet those under you are currently weak, and you won't be around to protect them forever."

His mouth closed as Serafall was right.

"As such, the only way to protect them is to stop the source of all this violence and fighting. This barrier you set up is strong, but in the end, space will be limited and the enemies outside can only grow stronger." Serafall paused in her steps.

He followed her example.

Slowly, Serafall turned around to face him, her expression somber as she dipped her head.

"You are strong," she admitted openly. "Strong enough to change things; to help end this situation where fellow Devils fight fellow Devils. I, I want your help," she said.

Shifting her head to the side, she peered up at the clouds while dim rays of moon light filtered in through the forest canopy.

"I, I'm going to be an elder sister," she said, using a finger to twirl a strand of her hair. "And this isn't the underworld I want my sister to be born. She deserves better than this. I know it's selfish of me when your power may injure you, but _please_ ,"

She bowed, hands clasped around her as she closed her eyes. "I need your help to create an underworld my sister can be proud of!"

There was a silence as Shirou stared at Serafall. No doubt, this was the best example of the love an older sibling had for their younger siblings.

As such, Serafall was a superb elder sister, and Sona was lucky for that in the future.

"Raise your head," he said, the tone of his voice failing to give anything away.

Serafall looked up at him, her eyes determined. He would respond in kind with his own answer.

"Pitting one's beliefs against others, one fights with the will to persevere and die for that cause because it's something that they believe in. This is the premise of the entire civil war occurring right now. You would die fighting for the cause you believe in, and so too would those on the Old Satan Faction's side. However, what about them?"

Shirou clenched his fists as he gestured with his hands toward the townsfolk in the distance.

"Will they die believing in a just cause, or simply because they're powerless to do anything even as small as voicing their own thoughts? They're Low-Class Devils, they don't have to ability to fight."

"My fight isn't about whose side I fight for, or a difference in views and ideologies," he began. "I simply fight for those who suffer from the fall out."

Low-Class Devils.

It was a term he had heard first from Adelina, and it just didn't sit right with him. Everyone should have the same amount of opportunity.

"They call themselves Low-Class Devils. They bow their heads and work tirelessly for those of higher standing yet in the end are caught in the crossfire without remorse. And I'm sure that many Devils such as yourself _do_ feel remorse, but not enough of them do."

Even if he wasn't from this time line, and even if he wasn't actually a Devil, he was determined to change things simply because he had the ability to. Man, Devil, Angel, it didn't matter, they were all the same in Shirou's eyes. People to be saved.

Un-clenching his fists, Shirou gazed at Serafall, his bronze-coloured eyes shining with a dull light that instantly captivated Serafall in their intensity; for a firm decision had been made within that tranquil gaze.

"You asked me to fight with you for an underworld your sister can be proud of?" Shirou spoke while shaking his head. "I'm afraid I'll have to decline, because the underworld I fight for is an underworld _all_ devils can be proud of."

 _He who would a save all. Marbas the Unfathomable. A Devil more akin to a Saint._

Closing his mouth, Shirou stared impassively at Serafall before turning his head and walking back towards the direction of the town.

Serafall was stunned, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as the words Shirou spoke resounded in her mind like a drum. Her cheeks flushed, her head blank.

This-This kind of man.

 _An underworld in which all Devils can be proud of._

Her mouth closed, her lips thinning in wonder as her eyes trailed Shirou's silhouette as he walked off.

A Devil like none other.

A true Hero of the underworld.

She closed her eyes while her hands balled into fists.

Even if it was just a little bit, she was starting to believe.

To believe in this Devil different from the rest.

Because through him, she could see an underworld worth fighting for.

 _The underworld that he would create._

* * *

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	21. The Sword and the Underworld: Part 6

_The words you said to me on that day, were the words that were engraved in my heart like the clearest of ice._

 _Eternal, it was a memory of a time unforgettable._

* * *

Serafall blinked her eyes slowly before brushing aside a few strands of her hair while muttering under her breath. From the way her lips thinned into a frown, and the way her fingers began rapping against an oaken desk, it was clear that she was far from amused.

She sighed, straightening her back as she reclined herself against the desk chair she had obtained when her family's retainers arrived in the Marbas territory. Made of stretched black leather and stuffed with quality cotton, her body seemed to comfortably sink into it as her gaze shifted back onto the desk before her.

The desk's surface was spruced up with fine sets of small black ink pots and complimenting quills lined evenly against piles of rolled parchment. It was neat and tidy, a status befitting of the work station of the Sitri Heir, however, it was far from her tastes and more along the lines of her mother's who she remained in contact with. Albeit, she was starting to regret that fact.

In the middle of the desk near the quills and papers, was a letter inscribed with the Sitri Magic Crest in full display. Beside it, was an old-fashioned letter-opener pertaining to the fact that the letter itself had already been opened, its contents out in full display.

The contents of the letter before Serafall was not something that she had wanted to see, but ultimately had to face. Grumbling to herself, she pushed herself off of her chair and stood up on her feet, a hand snatching up the letter's contents irritably before crumpling it.

"Have many times do I have to tell her that I don't want to nor do I need to," she murmured, tossing the crumpled letter to the side and putting it out of her mind.

Raising her arms, she stretched in the process of making her way towards the exit of the study her family retainers had built and insisted she use. No matter how much she refused, it was apparently the responsibility of an Ultimate-Class Devil to maintain a so-called sense of 'dignity' and to maintain an air of 'superiority.' Living in a regular residence as the other Devils seemed to be big a 'NO' in the perspective of her family's retainers. As such, she was adamantly persuaded to live in this make-shift manor in the Marbas territory; unable to refuse because it was her obligation to live up to the feelings of those supporting her. Contradicting them would get her nowhere; simply her mother's lovely ire instead and she was getting enough of that at the moment no matter how fondly she thought of the woman who raised her.

Opening the door at the exit of the study, bright rays of light illuminated her field of vision from the window in front of her. Squinting her eyes, she couldn't help but smile when she noticed the tranquility of the panoramic view of the town forming below her.

 _-From ruins it rose, a bustling metropolis of the underworld._

Large buildings were beginning to take shape and form. Brick and tile were prepared and stacked evenly against each other before being cemented in place by a grey viscous mixture of grinded rock, earth, and water. Off to the side of that were the fields where large slabs of animal-hides were in the process of being dried for preservation.

The air of the town was joyous, the Low-Class Devils seemingly unable to feel the tension of the Civil War as they went about their own lives. And this was because of the sense of security everyone felt.

It wasn't as apparent on the new arrivals, but for the locals who lived in the lands of Marbas, it was evident: Their faith in the Lord of the land and the barrier he had placed to ensure their safety at the cost of his own self-harm.

Indeed, she had ended up explaining the matter when pressed for answers on what happened on that day from the masses of locals as she couldn't bear to keep the matter secret; not when she realized that their insistence was due entirely to concern. As such, they learned the reason why their Lord Marbas had returned a bloodied mess, and since then, not one of them tolerated anyone disrespecting the young Lord. Quite amusingly, that included her in the eyes of the little Devil Adelina.

But she digressed, for she could understand their sentiments, their trust in him, for she was the same if just a little bit more curious.

He was an odd one really. Nothing she could think of could accurately describe him, for she couldn't categorize him either.

He was of little words and little expression, but he wasn't cold.

He was a Devil of Nobility, an heir of the Seventy-Two Pillars, but no such Noble's 'dignity' and 'airs' existed on his person. Rather, it was he himself who served others.

Yet perhaps the most important of all, was the sharpness of his eyes. The clarity in them which denoted a conviction he wouldn't hesitate to follow through. And it was with those eyes, that he had shown her a cause worthy of fighting for in this bitter war.

Looking at the scene before her now, that cause was more apparent than ever.

For an Underworld all Devils could be proud of.

She smiled tenderly before her gaze shifted back down towards the residents working in the town. From the Low-Class Devils she had gathered with the Sitri House retainers, many of them were proficient in different occupations. Construction, sewing, harvesting, painting, arithmetic, there were a whole variety of skills that were in the process of being implemented in the town as not all Devils were powerful. Furthermore, the local inhabitants in the area possessed their own fair share of experience and skills, adding onto the town's construction.

However, no matter how skilled and proficient people were, there was still a lack of houses to accommodate them. Therefore, pitched up near the edges of the budding town, were numerous tents made from the supplies many of the Low-Class Devils had brought with them from the other shelters.

Only time would be able to tell when those tents would disappear, but for now she had other things she needed to do.

Grabbing her beret before walking out of the home, she placed it on her head and in between her twin-tails as she progressed towards a patch of forest in the distance. It was an isolated plot of land where those willing to fight with her in the New Satan Faction decided to train at after informing her. She was doing a check as a result as she had not had much contact with them after being away from the frontlines for an extended period. More importantly, some exercise would not be so bad.

The familiar sounds of swords swinging and laboured breaths entered her ears the closer she got, causing her to nod in satisfaction for the comrades who fought alongside her against the Old Satan Faction. From the sounds of the swings, they were being truly diligent in their efforts to grow stronger and put an end to this civil war. In that case, she approved.

In the next moment though as she arrived on scene, she found her brow twitching in annoyance for even thinking of approving her comrades 'efforts.'

"Are you not ashamed to be outdone by a child?" She asked exasperatedly, a hand slapping against her forehead.

"N-No Milady. I swear we were intending to be practicing just as hard, but we unexpectedly found her in the area when we got here," a Devil holding a sheathed sword explained while pointing at Adelina.

The young girl was swinging her sword near the center of the training area and only once glanced at Serafall's direction before continuing. Much to Serafall's surprise, the techniques Kuro was teaching the young girl seemed to carry a depth to them that conveyed their mysteriousness. Even more so when the young girl was practicing with a thin blade nearly twice her length.

It was admirable, making her curious to see just what kind of woman Adelina would grow up in to, but no matter, she shook her head to maintain her priorities.

Turning to the other grown up devils she opened her mouth and spoke.

"And a little girl's presence stopped you from training why?" She asked the other devils.

"We were surprised is all;" another devil chimed in. "A devil this child's age being able to put in so much effort was worth watching."

The explanation was understandable. Coupled with the apologetic expression on the other devil's faces, Serafall could only relent. Though, at that point, she wasn't actually angry. In fact, she never was. It was only because she had to show a strong front as a leader in the war that she maintained a somewhat strict attitude when it came to those following her. After all, if the alternative was them dying on the battlefield due to a careless error, then she would rather be strict.

The Devils in the area quickly began practicing, several smiling in Adelina's direction and attempting to give her pointers on her form.

Serafall on the other hand was furtively glancing around her, only to be disappointed when she did not see a familiar visage. Well, no matter, it wasn't as if she _wanted_ to see him anyway.

A gaze pierced at her back, and almost instantly, she felt uncomfortable when an amused laugh trailed into her ears.

"Allon," she said slowly. "What do you think you're doing? And would it kill you to just arrive normally?"

Her voice was flat and monotone. Most of all, she was getting tired of this particular devil's habit of just showing up from out of nowhere. Yet, perhaps that was why her mother had assigned him to her.

"No milady, I believe the question that needs answering is what do you think you're doing?" A voice replied in kind.

Turning around, she crossed her arms before huffing. In front of her was Allon, the masked devil assigned as her aide, and the smugness coming off him was infuriating.

"What do you mean?" She pressed, tapping a foot against the ground.

"Oh, is it not obvious?" Allon stared hard at Serafall, "I have been your aide since you were no more than a brat with a bit, no, a lot more power than the others, but I digress."

An aura of seriousness appeared over Allon's cloaked body as he immediately drew closer.

Serafall grew startled by the action, but was left flabbergasted when all Allon did was point.

"Perfume, short dress, white stockings, earrings, high-heels, bare shoulders, and even a silver linked golden pendant." Allon took a breath before sighing as he shook his head. "From the coordination of your clothes, it seems to me that you must have had spent a substantial amount of time on deciding on your apparel unlike your usual self who would wear whatever caught your eye. Therefore, milady, I cannot help but ask. Are you here to train or to-"

"-?!"

Serafall covered Allon's mouth in a fluster as the other devils in the area turned towards her. Allon's voice wasn't loud, but it wasn't silent either. Therefore, the other devils and Adelina could clearly hear what Allon had to say, and Adelina was already looking disapprovingly at Serafall. The others however seemed to be delighted, giving her thumbs up and meaningful glances that only furthered her embarrassment as she promptly realized that, _no_ ; she could not hide behind her bangs.

Allon's observation were spot on. She had indeed taken a considerable amount of time to decide on what she would wear, but as for the accessories and everything else, she couldn't even remember when she had put them on.

She was feeling mortified. After all, she didn't even realize what she had been doing when she had been preparing herself for the day, and only now that she thought of it did she realize what she had done. Her actions had been done subconsciously as a part of her just didn't want to appear like the rest in Kuro's eyes. Yet could she admit that, let alone acknowledge it in front of others?

Legs feeling weak, her mind couldn't come up with anything to say in response as Allon gently tugged her hand off of his mouth and placed it by her side. The action could have had been perceived as the end of her misery, yet the man just had to get another word in.

"It heartens me greatly to see you acting as a woman in her youth, milady."

 _That traitorous mouth._

For a moment, she was legitimately contemplating what her aide would look like as an ice sculpture, but she was more concerned about clarifying things to the other devils who were now whispering amongst themselves. Adelina had long ago stopped practicing and was now glaring at Serafall with a critical eye.

"W-What are you insinuating?" Serafall said irritably to Allon before turning to the others whose expression remained unchanged. "It's obvious that this man's words can't be trusted-listen to me will you!"

Serafall's lip twitched seeing that her words had no effect before then dragging Allon into the forest with a red face.

"WHY?" She demanded of Allon.

Generally, she had a flippant personality, but even she could get embarrassed.

"You resemble your mother when she had first met your father, now the question is; will you beat me up to?" Allon's eyes glanced down at the frosted air stemming from Serafall's hands.

To be honest, Allon had only acted up, as it was truly rare for Serafall to act in such a way. In fact, she had never even dressed nicely for her suiters and had turned them all down despite the political benefits. Her actions were beginning to make her mother worry, more so now with the civil war breaking out. More than anything, Serafall's mother just wanted someone to ensure her daughter's safety, and an alliance by marriage would only make the other family place more importance on Serafall.

However, Serafall continued to refuse, saying that only a man stronger than her could marry her. This statement alone was bleak as Serafall was already an Ultimate-Class Devil at her young age. Clearly, she had only made such a statement to thwart her mother's efforts as no suitable heir could match her other than Sirzech's and Ajuka and neither of the two bothered, as they were all friends.

It truly was a tricky situation, but suddenly Allon saw a hope that he conveyed to Lady Sitri, Serafall's mother.

The heir of Marbas.

It only helped as he could see that Serafall had a favourable impression of the man.

"Well, will you strike this old man who helped raise you since young? Will you strike your old Ale?" Allon said in monotone.

Serafall snorted before letting the matter drop, yet was clearly still angry.

"You must have your reasons for showing up now," she asked.

Allon nodded before dusting himself off to look presentable. When Serafall had dragged him to his current location, bits and pieces of bramble had stuck onto his cloak.

Clearing his throat, Allon bowed once before straightening his back and giving a gesture of salute to Serafall.

"I'm here to report on the matter you've asked of me; it appears that the young lord Marbas has begun his move, whatever that may be," Allon said.

Ever since the events of that night, Serafall had been waiting to see just what Kuro had planned to create an underworld every devil could be proud of to call home.

When she had heard him speak those words the first time, she had heard the conviction in his voice. They were not empty words, and he would surely act on them.

Therefore, she placed a man to watch his movements and report to her so that she may be of service when he chose to act. That time seemed to be now.

"Oh, has he now?" She said with a smile, her anger seeming to dissipate slightly as her anticipation rose. "Then it's probably about time for me to make a move."

"In more ways than one I hope?" Allon said.

She smiled sweetly.

"Shut up," was her only response.

* * *

The things he held dear, and the resolutions he had made shaped him to be the man he was today.

Like flickering flames, the world which could only be seen through his eyes seemed fleeting, but in the end, it was beautiful. A world without hardship, a place where all were equal, and a land where there was no longer a need for heroes. To that end, he would fight, even if it wasn't for the sake of his own world, but that of another's simply because it didn't matter.

Shirou raised a hand towards the sky, staring at the way a dark energy emitted from it in a thin transparent smoke. The energy of All the World's Evil eroding away at his body; the consequence of him maintaining his current form for too long. Yet it didn't matter.

Hand clenched into fist, a small stream of energy shot forth, catching the falling leaves within the forest. Like flame to paper, the leaves began to fade one by one into particles of black decay which faded in the wind.

His brows furrowed in thought. Not only was he getting more proficient at using this new power, he felt that it was necessary to do so. He wouldn't be able to explain how a Devil could create so many demonic swords let alone the number of holy swords he had at his disposal. Therefore, he had to find an alternative means.

Hand dropping back to his side, he took a breath before closing his eyes to think.

The towns people and the new devils that Serafall had brought were getting along quite well and the town's development was speeding along with everyone's cooperation. Furthermore, the barrier around the lands of Marbas was strong, guaranteeing the safety of those within.

As for new arrivals, there were no more signs of any others coming any time soon either. Serafall had already spoken to him about the fact that she had already gathered all of the devils seeking shelter here. Thus, it was safe to assume that no matter how much time passed, no more devils in the area would come unless he directed them here from lands farther away.

He nodded his head as he decided on what he was going to do.

He had said to Serafall that his goal was to create an underworld that all devils could be proud of, and he couldn't do so by staying put here and doing nothing.

In his words were his convictions, and in his actions were his motives.

When he found himself at the very borders of the barrier surrounding the lands of Marbas, he was already finished contemplating.

It was time to go and change things.

He hadn't informed Serafall of his intentions, nor did he speak of it to others simply because he knew what their reactions would be. They would follow him regardless of the danger. The expressions on their faces, their very actions regarding him, they weren't lost on him.

He didn't know the particular phenomenon, but in some ways, he could relate to it for he was once the same. A boy saved by a man who knew nothing about him in the fires of a hell that surely would have ended his life. That man had saved him when he was already far past the point of despair and was only a husk of everything else that had already been eroded away.

What he had felt back then, may share similar aspects to what these people felt now.

Gratitude.

Devotion.

He had saved them in their lowest point in their lives, he a hero who had come in their despair. They wouldn't be willing to allow their hero to risk his life alone outside the protection of the lands of Marbas.

In regards to Serafall though, he wasn't to sure how she would react. After all, the reason why didn't inform her was because of a consequence he had thought up of after God had instigated him into thinking about repercussions.

Who was Serafall if not one of the future leaders of the Underworld?

As such, she had a place she needed to be right now in the front-lines. Her absence there may prove detrimental for future events. Therefore, he was hoping that with his absence, she would simply return to her part of the battlefield and allow him to fight for the underworld in his own way.

Yet, he underestimated the tenacity of a woman's intuition, or more accurately their decisiveness.

"And where do you think you're going?" Serafall asked in front of him. Near her were an entire group of several hundred devils choosing to follow house Sitri in the civil war.

With how strong Serafall was, she had become a prominent figure in the civil war between devils of the differing factions. As a result, many devils in the New Satan Faction followed her without question, not just because of loyalty to house Sitri, but because they were more inclined to follow her out of a sense of admiration.

He on the other hand was looking at her in anything but admiration at the moment. Powerful or not, she had a role that she had to fill for the future he was fighting for. Her presence here means that she won't be fulfilling that role, and subsequently, it was going to be another thing he would have to fix before returning to the future.

His brow twitched as the urge to yell out his frustration welled up from inside him, and it wasn't just because of the pain he was going through. It was simply because of stunning realization that he was somehow being roped into the problems of another woman.

He really should have had just stayed in the apartment in the future and holed himself up from everyone.

However, he knew better than anyone that that wasn't the type of person he was.

"Serafall," he greeted with a nod.

"Kuro," she replied in kind with a smile over her face that suddenly faded when Allon gave her a thumb up.

She gritted her teeth, then shook her head before walking up to Shirou.

Shirou didn't move, as it was then he noticed that there was a difference in Serafall's attire, and it seemed as if she was somehow hoping he would comment on it. When she had first arrived in the lands of Marbas, she wore baggy grey clothing completely suited for the lifestyle she must have been living in the war. Now though, she wore a small dress and complimenting accessories that made him realize that it wasn't just Sona who was beautiful in the Sitri household, but Serafall was too. And she was simply stunning.

Yet, he had seen his fair share of stunning beauties and was quick to recover as Serafall stopped right in front of him with a distance of two feet.

"Well?" She asked hopefully.

He acted as if he didn't understand her underlying intentions and just grunted.

She sighed as a result, looking up at him with a pout before dropping the matter.

"You didn't seem to answer my question about leaving," She said.

"Would I have to tell you when I leave every time?" He replied back.

"No, I suppose not," Serafall raised her shoulders before twisting herself as she walked around Shirou. Her gaze was playful, yet serious at the same time, thus Shirou was unsure of what exactly she was thinking. "If it was just any other outing, then there wouldn't be a need for me to be here. However, Kuro, you going out now means that you yourself are ready to act, are you not?"

Serafall smiled before motioning behind her.

His gaze followed her gesture and landed on the rows of devils Serafall had brought with her. They stood at attention, those at the very front, older looking and more experienced than those at the back.

"I thought about it Kuro. What you said on that night," Serafall admitted. "And your right. The kind of underworld I want my sister to live in is an underworld that all devils can be proud to call home. As such, please let me fight with you. Let _us_ fight with you."

Shirou stared silently at Serafall, and then back to the unmoving crowd of devils behind her. He knew that even if he disagreed, with Serafall's personality, she may very well just trail behind him anyway.

The men and women in front of him at this moment were the people willing to fight for the peace of the underworld. Their loss would be a blow that would be hard to recover from even in the future. From where he stood, he could see in the crowd, numerous other High-Ranked Devils from the other pillars that chose to follow Serafall. Recalling back to what Issei had spoken with him about what happened with Rias and her wedding, then many of those in the Seventy-Two Pillars may be lost in this war. This would lead to the events of the marriage by purity of blood.

As such, he would rather fight alongside everyone where he had some confidence in keeping them safe. Even more so when he caught sight of Adelina trying to hide herself from within the crowd.

 _Really, that girl._

He turned his attention back to Serafall.

"Fine," he relented. This was just another thing that was going to change the future. At this point though, he didn't care so long as it was a future where everyone was still smiling.

When he accepted, Serafall released a breath of relief before grinning as she patted his back.

"Now that were decided, you want to let me know what you had in mind?" She asked.

"…"

He didn't answer. How was he supposed to say that he had decided to just go straight to the front lines and hope to stumble upon a leader of the Old Satan Faction? It was the same as saying he had no plan at all.

Somehow, Serafall was able to read Shirou's expression, making her lips twitch in amusement. It would seem as if she had found the part in Shirou that he was lacking. For all the strength he had, if he didn't have the intelligence to plan accordingly then he was simply another Sirzechs Gremory. Though she didn't mind that very much. Instead, it was his compassion and selflessness towards others that was drawing her curiosity and fondness.

Besides, she already had a friend that was too smart for his own good.

She pulled out a note she had obtained from Ajuka and read it over once more before nodding her head and stepping directly beside Shirou.

"If you don't have any plans, why don't you hear me out?" She said whispering into Shirou's ear, their faces only inches apart.

Allon nearly applauded in gratification watching the scene but was startled when the wooden sword in Adelina's hand shattered within Adelina's grip.

Shirou didn't see any of this though, as more than anything, the pain in his body forced him to only be able to focus on one thing at a time. Presently, that was the plan Serafall was whispering into his ears after his consent.

"Will that really work?" He asked.

"It's something Ajuka thought up of. It's bound to work with his smarts," Serafall replied.

Shirou gave it some thought, before agreeing. "Then let's go with that," he said.

BREAK

The entire group went North, walking in the direction opposite of where the foremost of the New Satan Faction were fighting.

After all, there was more than one way to win a war, and Ajuka, the genius of the underworld had that made that clear to Serafall numerous times.

The note Ajuka had given to Serafall pertained of the situation regarding the distribution of the Old Satan Factions provisions. Food was necessary to last in battles of such large scale, and by intercepting those provisions, the effect on the war front would be evident. It was just that Serafall had always refused to do something like this as she thought herself more useful fighting.

Looking at Shirou and his willingness to fight for those weaker than him, she changed her mind. By stopping the enemies provisions the whole war was bound to shorten as a result. As Ajuka had given this task of intercepting the enemy's provisions to her, she had initially delegated the duty to Allon, but was now doing it personally on behalf of certain rumours she had heard. Not only would doing it personally increase the surety of the task getting completed, but if those rumours that she heard were true, then she truly did need to act.

Since the group consisted of several hundred or so devils, they moved rather slowly, and in this time, Shirou was staring at Adelina who had come along.

"Your sword's broken," was the first thing he said.

"I thought I saw what my older cousin called a slut, and couldn't contain myself," Adelina said.

The words she spoke shouldn't have been coming out of a young child's mouth, but war forces children to mature early. This was even more so for Adelina who had already lost a father. As for the broken wooden sword, devils in general had a higher base strength than humans. The wooden sword breaking was just a matter of time.

He traced a new one and promptly gave it to Adelina.

"Take care of this one," he said.

Adelina nodded, but Shirou wasn't finished speaking.

"Why did you come?" He asked. "It's dangerous here, and there's a chance that you may not be able to protect your mother ever again if you lose your life."

Adelina pursed her lips before glancing at the ground.

"I spoke with mommy already," she said. "She told me to protect the young lord well."

Shirou patted Adelina's head while grunting. "If a child your age was the one who ends up protecting me, then I might as well give up my dream of being a hero. Am I strong?"

Adelina quickly nodded her head. "Super strong," she said.

"Good, then you should know that I'm strong enough to fend for myself," Shirou said.

Adelina pursed her lips and seemed particularly unwilling to accept Shirou's words. Luckily, Shirou dropped the matter by patting Adelina's head and watched her go off to train with the rest.

As she left, Shirou's attention once again returned to the direction of the road ahead. From what Serafall said, one of the Old Satan Faction's military granaries were in that direction, and by stopping transport of food and supplies, the New Satan Faction should be able to move in for a decisive victory.

The current scenery around them was a dense forest as they transitioned towards milder climates further north of the Marbas territories. Shurbs and bushes filled the area, and the occasional wild animal would peer curiously at their traveling group.

As Adelina was now gone, Shirou decided that it was time to make use of himself to scout ahead. Jumping atop the trees, he focused magical energy into his eyes to reinforce their vision.

His forehead creased as he squinted his eyes.

There off in the distance in a clearing of the forest was a caravan of people, yet unexpectedly this caravan was far different from normal travelling groups. It consisted of numerous carts carrying large quantities of devils in cages while the leaders of the caravan seemed to be lounging in a carriage at the front.

Anger immediately began to swell from within Shirou as he scrutinized the group and discovered the condition of the people in the cages. They were all malnourished and thin, some with injuries.

"Serafall," he called.

"Yes?" Serafall said, pausing in her steps to pear up at where Shirou was standing.

"There's a caravan up ahead, but it's different from the other caravans."

Serafall's eyes grew serious. It was the expression of the general who ruled on the battlefield as the Ice Queen and the future strongest female devil of the underworld. "Tell me the details."

Shirou nodded before explaining exactly what he saw.

Serafall was outraged before she placed a hand beneath her chin and bit at her thumb nail.

"Those bastards. So, the rumours were true," Serafall muttered before calling out into the forest. "Allon!" She called.

Allon appeared in the next moment with a flourish of his cloak.

"Yes milady?"

"Order everyone to halt, I'm calling a meeting."

"Understood," Allon bowed before departing to relay Serafall's instructions.

The orders were swiftly carried out, revealing the efficiency in the way Serafall had trained up the devils under her. As a result, it didn't take long before Serafall, Shirou, and Allon stood across from each other with a frown on Serafall's face.

"From what you saw Kuro, its most likely that those people in the cages are the missing low-class devils in the territories of the fallen families of the Seventy-Two Pillars," Serafall revealed.

Allon nodded his head before speaking. "Those devils were theorized to have had been killed by the radicals of the Old Satan Faction, but it seems that the rumours about them taking captives were true."

"What do you mean?" Shirou asked.

Allon looked once at Serafall before proceeding to explain in a detailed manor.

"Like all wars, it isn't necessarily the powerful that dictate the length of the war, but the weak who provide. Just as we are currently on a mission to intercept the Old Satan Faction's provision lines, have you ever stopped to consider just where those provisions come from? It comes from the commoners of the underworld working the fields and mining the ores necessary for magical armour. The granary that is our current target is only where the Old Satan Faction is storing their food and supplies, not the location of _where_ they get those supplies."

Serafall raised a hand to interrupt Allon.

"The point is Shirou, those low-class devils in the cages are probably going to be forced into slavery to provide the provisions and necessities the Old Satan Faction needs to continue to the war."

Shirou stiffened. "The working conditions?"

"From what you must have seen when they were attacking the Marbas territory, you could already imagine their attitudes towards those not of their cause." _They're more likely to disregard the low-class devil's well being._

It wasn't hard to understand Serafall's true meaning, and it was enough to get a reaction from Shirou. Yet, Allon unexpectedly blocked his path, much to Serafall's surprise.

"Allon, what are you doing?"

Serafall stared perplexed. To be honest, she was of the same mind-set as to attack with Shirou and rescue her fellow devils.

"Young man, let me ask you a question," Allon began. "Do you wish to save just those in that caravan, or do you wish to save all of those in captivity?"

It was a bold statement, and it was more than enough to cause Shirou to pause.

"What do you have in mind?"

Allon nodded in approval.

"Well then young lord, please hear me out."

As Allon began to explain his plan, Shirou spoke not a word, but it was clear that he approved with what Allon was suggesting.

Serafall on the other hand was adamantly against it, and when Shirou _still_ decided to follow through with it, she shook her head, paused, and then eventually nodded when the sincerity in Shirou's eyes convinced her.

Still, when Shirou was out of sight, the glare she leveled on Allon was not something an ordinary man could cope with.

However, Allon stayed unaffected.

The level of will and determination Shirou displayed was one that was necessary to be a prime suiter of the Sitri house.

Just from the way Serafall was reacting to the young Lord Marbas's predicament however, was an unexpected boon. The old butler Allon was sincerely heartened.

Ah, youth.

* * *

Life was hard, and it had always been hard.

You work off the land, constantly hungry, and living off of what meager amount of food you could harvest from the fields. Even then, the majority are taken away by the lord of the land.

Labour continues, and the struggle only grows more apparent.

The seasons change, and the cycle repeats. No one knows who will live or die, just that you could keep your life so long as you worked.

Even then, hardships were bound to continue

If anyone could explain such matters with confidence, it would be Lucas Arthos, a Low-Class devil that had once lived in the lands governed by house Orobas of the Seventy-Two Pillars. Now though, life was even worse with the start of the civil war, and this was after he had been taken by the members of the Old Satan Faction.

Those of house Orobas whose territory he and many other Low-Class Devil's lived in was adamantly against the Old Satan Faction's plans of continuing the Great War of the Factions. In the end, those of house Orobas were killed by a sudden raid from the higher ups of the Old Satan Faction, leaving Lucas and many others lord-less.

It would have had been fine though if that was all that happened. After all, Lucas and the other low-class devils would just have to migrate towards another greater Devil's lands and hope for acceptance. Yet, before they could even do so, they were captured by the member of the Old Satan Faction and shipped off like cattle.

"Fucking shits," Lucas cursed, punching the chains latched onto his ankles.

His fists bruised and eventually bled when the skin began to peel off, but not even a scratch could be seen on the gleaming metal interlocked chains.

If only he was stronger!

If only he was given a chance!

He knew that it would be tough to advance from a low-class, yet he still had the will to do so in pursuit of a better life. No matter how many contracts he had to fulfill, he was fully willing to do them no matter how long it took. Even if he wasn't strong, he was smart at least, and he even possessed an above average level of magical energy.

His chances of promoting to Middle-Class Devil were high in the next hundred years assuming he would work hard, but now there was nothing.

Strength left his legs as he collapsed onto the ground weeping.

The other devils around him were no better, but at least they had family to rely on. Lucas on the other hand was alone. He was a young devil, only thirteen summers old in human years with no parents to call his own. He didn't even know if he was abandoned or if his family had died in the Great War between the Factions. As such, it was commendable that a young devil like himself could still struggle on and even have thoughts of advancing when his situation was so bleak.

After being taken into the custody of those from the Old Satan Faction, many including Lucas thought that they would be executed. However, the true purpose in their capture was worse.

They were to be slaves.

Free labourers that the Old Satan Faction forced to harvest their crops and mine their ores for magical armours.

It was a life far harder than how Lucas and the others were living before as even though the majority of their farmed crops were taken by the ruling Lord, those of house Orobas had made sure that they at least had enough to survive the winter.

Now though, they would be lucky to get a fist full of grains to eat.

If one couldn't work, they were tossed aside to be disposed of as new slaves were brought in to replace them. And this terrified Lucas even though he hadn't seen it first hand how the Old Satan Faction disposed of others. He was sure that they were simply killed, and he could clearly imagine himself in their shoes.

Lucas shivered before he began sniffling. He and the others were still in the process of being transported to the main slaving area so they were yet to be put to work. Be that as it may, other low-class devils that were travelling in the same caged cart as they, were seniors from other slaving sites being moved to delegate man power.

Just from their scarred and haggard appearances, Lucas could already picture himself in their positions.

No!

He refused.

Gritting his teeth, he began punching at the chains binding his ankles again, his hands infused with the magical energy at his disposal.

He would advance!

He would lead a better life!

The sound of his punches echoed in the cart, drawing the attention of those from the Old Satan Faction, but they didn't do anything as they just watched silently, confident that a low-class devil wouldn't be able to free itself.

This time the chains dented under Lucas's onslaught, but ultimately, they still held together. Breathing erratically, Lucas fell to his knees in exhaustion, the others as chained up as he was giving him looks of condolence.

"Damn it," Lucas cursed, his body sprawling on the floor. "How can we accept this?" He asked.

No one answered, but the answer was already clear.

It was because they were weak.

The day shifted into evening, and the others from the Old Satan Faction decided to make camp. It was when Lucas and the others were ordered out of their cages to set up camp and food did Lucas notice something odd.

From one of the other carts came a Devil whose body was covered in strange black markings. Other than the markings, there was difference between him and everyone else, and it wasn't just a difference in posture. It was in the way this devil carried himself. There was no helplessness in his gaze, and he didn't appear as if he understood just what exactly was happening.

Lucas shook his head and pondered for a moment as a woman from the Old Satan Faction forced a tent into his arms for him to set up, the lazy bitch. Still, he quickly complied as he feared the whip he eyed at the woman's hip.

As he was setting up the tent, he once again glanced at the odd devil.

The devil with the odd black markings wasn't from the group he and the others from the lands of house Orobas came from, Lucas mused. Therefore, the devil must have come from another territory.

"You, you think you can laze around!"

The sound of whip echoed into Lucas's ears and for a moment he feared that it was him the voice was directing its animosity towards. Yet when his body registered no pain, he let out a sigh of relief. His hands were damaged enough, if his back got injured then he feared what it would be like to ride in the cage atop the carriages when they began moving at full speed.

Lucas, and everyone's attention turned towards the noise, finding an old man hunched on the ground on the other end of the woman from the Old Satan Faction whose name was Launa.

"Even if you're old, it doesn't mean that you can't work," Launa said dismissively. "And if you think that this is injustice, then you should look at yourselves first. Our Great Satans sacrificed their all for the war, and now you wish to end it without a conclusion. Preposterous!"

The sound of the whip cracked as Launa struck it against the ground in warning. The ground cratered. "You all deserve to be treated like animals."

Lucas gulped, and then turned away. Looking at the strength of that whip, he didn't want to see the result if it was used on the old man.

The old man struggled to get back on his feet, yet in the end, his old bones gave out on him. The old man stumbled, once again panting as he rested on all-fours over the ground. The journey itself had already taken its toll on him and didn't seem as if he could even last much longer.

Launa's eyes narrowed. The Old Satan Faction needed workers to maintain their level of provisions and process the ores necessary for combat armour, not useless ones.

The whip lashed out before anyone could even realize it, but when no agonized cries rang out, Lucas was startled to see the sight before him.

The odd Devil had moved.

Infiltrating the caravan of low-class devils wasn't too difficult. The Old Satan Faction members were few in number, and Shirou doubted that they would remember the faces of all their captives. Even still, he knew that he was pushing his actions by standing out in the crowd. Even so, he did so anyway.

Shirou stood in front of the old man, a lash mark travelling down his chest that drew blood. Yet, he didn't so much as utter a word. This pain was nothing, and he couldn't act out yet either. Not until he had arrived where the Old Satan Faction members were keeping the rest of the captives. Until then, he wouldn't act unless forced to, yet that didn't mean that he would just stand by and watch.

"You dare!" Launa seethed.

Launa was part of a group of five Old Satan Faction Devils that were tasked with delivering the new workers to the mining site. With there only being five of them and over several hundred low-class devils, she and the others were dispersed amongst the travelling caravan to oversee their own groups of captives.

She would not allow her authority over these low-class devils to be challenged.

The whip crackled again.

And then again.

Off in the distance, Serafall's eyes were growing colder and colder as she glowered, the temperature dropping in accordance with her mood. From the very beginning she was against this idea, but it was Kuro himself who insisted he follow through with Allon's suggestion to maximize the number of captives that could be saved.

Shirou would infiltrate and gain access into the heart of where all the low-class devils were being forced to work, and together he and herself would launch a pincer attack with the strength of two Ultimate-Class Devils.

The key to this plan was for Shirou to remain low profile, and certainly not what he was doing now.

 _Foolish idiot._

She bit her lips, her brow furrowing while her body was involuntarily moving into action on its own.

This sort of treatment towards Kuro, she couldn't stand it!

He was a devil who cared the most about others. He used his power not to flaunt, but to protect those who sought shelter beneath him. For the sake of an old man, scar after scar was appearing over his chest as he refused to utilize his power to fight back.

A hand patted against her shoulder.

"Allon," she said startled.

Allon merely shook his head, gesturing for Serafall to calm down.

In her growing anger, nearly everyone near her was forced ten steps back to avoid freezing. More importantly, her power as an Ultimate-Class was beginning to fluctuate, small glitters of energy beginning to manifest. Anymore, and even if they were a great distance away, their position would be sensed by the opposition.

"You will reduce that man's effort to nothing if you give our position away," Allon said. "Hold the anger in, you aren't the only one feeling outraged."

Saying that, Serafall finally noticed Adelina staring fixedly at the scene in front of her, but still holding herself back. Like Allon said, she didn't want Shirou's efforts to be worth nothing.

Gritting her teeth, Serafall reeled in her power, however, the way she looked at Launa spoke of the fact that Serafall wouldn't be forgetting what occurred here today.

And a woman could hold a grudge for a _very_ long time.

For now, though, her concern overrode her anger as her gaze fixated on Shirou.

By this point, Shirou was covered by a layer of blood, but unexpectedly, it wasn't him who was feeling anxious, rather, it was Launa.

 _Those eyes._

They stared at Launa as if boring daggers into her person. They didn't blink, they didn't move, and no matter how hard she threw her whip forward, they never changed.

Launa immediately grew unsettled, before pausing as the incident that occurred in the Marbas territory surfaced in her mind.

The heir of Marbas, a monster of a Devil that was somehow able to kill the kin of many of those loyal to the Old Satan Faction. The only survivor, the daughter of Lord Valefor was left a wreck. A shell of her former self. More importantly, it was the fact that the barrier the young Lord of house Marbas set up had attracted all the low-class devils in the area to seek its protection. Thus, there were hardly anymore low-class devils to replenish the number of low-class devils they were losing in the mines everyday.

As of recently, Launa had heard plans of an eventual attack on the lands of Marbas, but from the description the daughter of Valefor had provided, they were cautious of the power of this new lord.

Scouts would have to be sent first to accurately gauge the heir of Marbas's strength. Till then, she had to procure as many able-bodied low-class devils as possible to work the mines and procure provisions.

This was the reason she used to justify fleeing from the area. It was in no way due to the fact that she had grown uneasy with her actions as if she was provoking something that shouldn't be provoked.

Launa's sudden departure left the low-class devils at a loss, but not one of them thought of escape. They wouldn't be able to run anyway should Launa join up with the other four.

Instead, many of the low-class devils bowed in respect towards Shirou who still stood standing after numerous lashes from the whip.

"T-Thank you!" The old man bowed, eyes watering as two small children rushed up to the old man's side to support him but were to weak to even lift him.

Shirou didn't answer the man's thanks and wordlessly propped himself by the old man to allow the old man to prop himself up.

"Y-You?" The old man questioned in surprise before falling silent and allowing Shirou to hoist him up.

Perhaps at this moment, no words were needed.

Shirou's actions spoke for himself.

Despite being injured and covered in blood, that back still stood standing.

Against power, he showed tenacity.

Against oppression he showed resistance.

And in the face of hardship, he showed compassion.

The sound of his steps and quickened breath were the only sound in the area, everyone forgetting that they had been tasked with making camp.

Even Lucas felt as if he had just seen something impossible. For no devil he and the others had ever seen would go to such an extent for another not of similar blood.

As if sensing everyone's gaze and confusion, a voice spoke out into the air.

"As Devils we fought Angels," The voice began, tone calm.

Everyone immediately fell silent.

"As Devils we fought Fallen."

Stronger now, yet still not loud enough to draw attention, but already it was having an effect.

The heads of all present were beginning to prick up. It was as if no matter how low a tone this voice was speaking, the words would clearly ring in their ears.

"And as _Devils_ we ruled the underworld."

There was a rising heat in everyone's chests as a flush seemed to come to their faces from a sense of excitement.

"And you all, even as low-class, are Devils."

Silence, yet the eyes of everyone present seemed to come alive with vitality. The young, the old, everyone stared in wonder at this devil like none other.

It was then that Lucas discovered to his shock that the owner of this steady and strong voice was the very Devil who had taken a lashing for an old man.

Injured, and bleeding, that devil stood strong in defiance, seemingly unwilling to acknowledge the pain he must be in.

"Take pride in your lives and seek out for a future worth fighting for. Now is not the end of your lives, but the beginning."

That sentence resounded. There was just something about his words, his disposition, that made everything he said believable. Even as a low-class, they were still devils, and they still had their uses. More importantly, many of the low-class devils were smart enough to understand something and looked in agitation at this bleeding devil.

Lucas was much the same. For he realized that the beginning this devil spoke of may be hinting at a possible escape.

"W-Who are you?" The words spilled out from Lucas's mouth before he could stop them.

And in that moment, Lucas would know the name of the man who would eventually leave his mark in the underworld.

The Devil of the lineage of the Lion.

"My name, is Marbas."

* * *

 **Thanks for Reading, and sorry for delays, I caught a fever this weekend and had to work in-between classes.**

 **P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious**


	22. The Sword and the Underworld: Part 7

Launa felt uneasy, which was strange for a Devil like herself; more so because she was a part of the nobility of the Underworld. An heiress of House Eligos. As such, she had always been blessed with above average magical energy and a gift to utilize it in advanced spells and techniques.

It made her reticent, and unwilling to relate to the thoughts of others of lower status and ability. Her standing in the current Civil War reflected such thoughts. She was unable to comprehend why other fellow devils were choosing to lay down their arms and preach for a standstill.

Ludicrous.

Yet it wasn't without reason.

Those of higher standing in Devil society were the rulers of the masses, the one's least likely to be sent to the forefront, and more likely to be delegated positions of power to command others. Therefore, she was equivalent to a Devil that _had_ been on the battle field yet had not experienced what a 'true' battlefield looked like.

Blood.

Gore.

And Death.

She had heard of such terms, but rarely saw it either even when she herself was facing opposition. After all, she was of a higher class and refused to stoop to the level of making a mess in her fights. It was always cleaner to obliterate her opponents with sheer magical ferocity than it was to use a weapon and bloody herself.

It was truly a naïve outlook. In a life or death battle, one wouldn't give a shit if something was messy or not.

Regardless, her mentality had already been built and mired upon years of constant praise and blind devotion. It was too late to change anything now.

The end product was a Noble-looking woman with lopsided hair streaked with lines of silver that stretched across her sides. Perhaps even more absurd was the fact that she wore a short blue dress and a luxurious mantle wreathed with small glittering jewels to an escort mission.

An ignorant lass, choosing appearance over practicality.

It was no wonder why she never considered the ramifications that the war had on the lower ranked and even the middle-ranked devils. As such, she stood on the side of the Old Satan Faction and wished to continue the war if solely for the pride of the devil race.

Escorting a group of low-class devils who couldn't understand the concept of a devil's pride to fight and show their supremacy left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. If they refused to fight in the war effort, then it was far more effective to slave them into work and make use of them.

Still, she clicked her tongue as goosebumps formed over her body.

Just thinking about that low-class devil she had encountered mere moments earlier, left her at a loss. Inwardly though, she refused to admit that she felt anywhere close to threatened.

Lips thinning, she eventually arrived at her destination, a tent more extravagant than any of the rest set up in the current temporary camp.

She appeared next to the tent's entrance and swiftly walked in, her pale and round face scrunching from the raucous laughter she could hear inside. If she could use any word to describe, it could only be unpleasant.

And indeed, it truly was unpleasant the further she went in. In fact, she found it quite obnoxious at this point, but she digressed. Those inside, were fellow comrades sharing a similar status as her own. It was only a pity that they didn't seem to inherit any of the class one must have when occupying such a station however.

Steeling her features, she rose a hand and pushed up the last flap leading into the innermost area of the tent.

The scene she saw inside was what she had expected. Her four other colleagues participating in the escort.

Alden Botis, Edith Aim, Crawford Raim, and Tyne Sabnock.

Nothing much could be said about their appearances, but like most Devils from prestigious family lines, they were both handsome and beautiful. Alden, for example, had long flowing black hair tied into a pony tail behind his back; his rugged features making him no different from a war general out on the field.

Yet, that kind of appearance wasn't something that appealed to Launa. Instead, if she had to choose, it would be between Crawford and Tyne.

Both were fair looking for men, but the masculinity in their features was still apparent. That, and the natural confidence they carried within themselves as heirs to the clans of the Seventy-Two Pillars. It was endearing and had an allure that could draw even someone like her. However, they were too caught up in following in the footsteps of their fathers who were generals in the War. Their ambitions were so large that they seemed to have had cast aside worldly sentiments such as love.

A pity.

As for Edith, it wasn't too much of a stretch if Launa referred to her as a friend.

The two were the only women currently present, and it only helped that like her, Edith was dressed elegantly. In Edith's case, it was in a black one-shoulder dress with small blue-tinted frills. On her feet were a pair of silk stockings and silver coloured flats that slightly curved upwards at the toes.

Launa made a momentary greeting and then shot a look at Alden. It was Alden who was the source of the annoying laughter, and she made sure she made it known that she did not want to put up with it. Not with her current mood.

Alden wasn't afraid of Launa, far from it, he secretly liked her. Therefore, the way she singled him out with a single look caused his laughter to cease as he believed that she had become captivated by him.

His conclusion was far from the truth.

Launa's four colleagues were gathered around a table laid with lavish food and wine, and of the four, Launa only found Edith Aim to be good company; Crawford and Tyne too difficult to talk to with their dismissive gestures, treating all women like predators wishing to pounce on them. Thus, as soon as she entered, she made her way to take a seat directly next to Edith while leaving a large berth of space from Alden who was the nearest to her proximity other than Edith.

If Alden noticed her action, he didn't comment, instead picking up on something else.

"Is something wrong?" Alden asked Launa. He had been observing her ever since she had entered the room, and he had noticed a furrow in her brow.

Launa seemed taken aback for a moment, but ultimately nodded when all the attention shifted towards her.

"Do you guys recall capturing a black-marked Devil?" She asked quietly.

"It's not a matter of recalling. It's just that it's impossible to recall in the first place," Edith said, taking a sip from a cup in front of her. "The amount of low class devils we're escorting is simply too much for us to remember individual faces or characteristics."

Launa's hands balled into fists on her lap. Edith's answer was reasonable, but it wasn't something she wished to hear.

"No," Launa shook her head. "I'm certain he'd have left an impression on you if you saw him."

Crawford and Tyne glanced at each other before crossing their arms.

"Even if you're paranoid, don't you think that taking a low-class devil too seriously is laughable?" Crawford muttered. "If you don't like him, then why not crush him with your magic. We all know that out of all of us here, you are the best when it comes to that. Or are you saying a High-Class devil like yourself is no match for a low class?"

Launa glanced up at Crawford, feeling chagrined. "You are an idiot," she scolded. "Do you not recall what Nirgul mentioned in the latest reports?"

Crawford's eyes widened before he shut his mouth. They were not to harm any low-class devils.

"The Devil Marbas," Tyne commented after a moment. "I've never seen him, but do you all know that heiress from the Valefor's? She's gone crazy, no," Tyne shook his head. "Crazy wouldn't even begin to describe it. She's locked herself up in her manor and refuses to leave, and it's all because she took a visit to the lands of Marbas."

"Hmph," Edith grunted. "So, what? He's just another Devil."

"A Devil that's housing all the low-class devils inside a magic barrier that even the foremost Devils on our side can't seem to comprehend," Launa rebuked. "Nirgul is an Ultimate-Class Devil and our current superior. What do you think he'd do should I kill an able-bodied slave worker? Especially since the low-class devils in this area are so rare now?"

By rare, Launa meant none existent. Practically all of the low-class devils without a Lord from the Seventy-Two Pillars to flock to had gone to the lands of Marbas for protection. The barrier protecting them now was unfathomably strong, seemingly impossible to break without numerous Ultimate-Class Devils working together.

Thus, every able-bodied low class the Old Satan Faction could get their hands on was valuable in that they needed them to do the tedious but necessary work. Otherwise, the Old Satan Faction would have to devote their much-needed military strength to procure provisions and maintain equipment.

"Then let me settle the issue," Alden suggested.

Launa snorted in response. "You have your own group of people to watch over, heir Botis, you need not concern yourself with mine unless you doubt my abilities?"

"I said nothing of the sort," Alden frowned. "I only wished to lighten your burden."

Alden's hands came together in a small gesture. They were calloused and worn from constant use either by training or on the battlefield. They were subtle marks of a diligent Devil even in the Old Satan Faction's side.

However, Launa detested such features for she believed that they reflected the personality of a barbarian who chose to fight in ways other than magic. Still, Alden Botis was powerful, and she actually _did_ find herself wishing to dump the load on the oaf. However, Crawford and Tyne's judging eyes caused her to grit her teeth in indignation.

" _I can handle it myself_ , you all can just watch," Launa said seething. "Besides, it's not like I'll ever see him again after bringing him to the mines."

Saying that, Launa stormed out of the tent, the others shaking their heads at her display of restlessness for a single low-class devil.

Only Alden maintained a steady gaze.

* * *

For Lucas Arthos and the low-class devils traveling with him, every day seemed to be another hell. Hungry and exhausted, the members in the Old Satan Faction's side seemed to have no idea about the limitations of those born of a lower class.

For instance, they tired far more easily and were not able to utilize their innate magic as Devils for extended periods of time.

Everything added together, and it spelled a death trap based on the forced marching speed of the caravan.

Lucas's clothes were drenched in sweat, large blackened spots staining his modest garmets as he walked forward. He had been walking for an entire day without rest and yet, he gritted his teeth much like the rest. For their exhaustion should be nothing compared to the Devil who called himself Marbas.

Marbas alone was forced to carry several tons of weighted metal ores that should have had been carried by the carriage because of the grudge Launa was harboring on him. Yet in the face of this burden, that broad back never bent, strong arms supporting the mass above him even as veins throbbed by his temples.

A sight worthy of admiration.

"How unpleasant," Launa muttered while staring at Marbas. She thought him so far below her that she didn't even bother forcing the other low-class devils for his name. Shaking her head, she then glanced towards the mountains in the distance.

Hell's Gate was its name, and it was known famously due to the natural formation of the two mountains situated directly next to each other. It formed a U-shaped canyon that appeared like the opening to a grand world or something along those lines. Launa herself never really cared about such things. Instead, she smirked when she thought about the mine at the base of the mountains that she and the others were quickly approaching.

A Devil Core mine.

It was a mine that produced Devil Core ores, a type of underworld metal that was able to easily conduct a Devil's magical power. Thus, making them useful as materials for weapon making. Moreover, it was extremely difficult to mine, and this was what caused Launa to smirk.

 _That damn low-rank, he'll surely suffer there,_ Launa thought to herself, no longer placing much attention on that particular Devil.

After all, they would arrive shortly before the evening.

* * *

The current Devil overseeing the mining operation at the Devil Core mine was named Nirgul Halphas. He was an old war general from the Great War Between the Factions, and he had been sent to monitor the location due to the Old Satan Faction's urgent need of Devil Cores.

The man had never really cared much about the matter, but he was always serious when it came to work. Therefore, he tolerated no disruptions and ruled the place like a tyrant. Every low-class devil sent to the mines either worked till they died of exhaustion or injured themselves and were disposed of.

Nirgul tolerated nothing else as a military man. However, his policies were forced to change recently due to the depleting number of new workers to make up for those that had died.

"The new batch is in?" Nirgul asked Launa and the rest who were standing in front of him.

"They've all been delivered," Alden answered.

For a moment, a pleased expression appeared on Nirgul's bearded face, but it quickly passed.

"Good," Nirgul said before then tossing Alden a small pouch much to Alden's confusion.

"What would you have me do with this?" Alden asked.

Nirgul didn't answer right away and instead sat upon his desk, the black mantle over his shoulders falling over top the chair behind him. Once seated, it was only then did Nirgul clasp his hands together and stare evenly at Alden.

"I need you to deliver that to your father, and I want you to leave now. That item will be of particular use to him," Nirgul said.

Hearing that it was something his father needed, Alden no longer asked any question and left for his home with a quick salute.

Nirgul focused his attention on Launa and the rest after sighing. He was a military man, and here he was currently overseeing a logistics post. His fingers rapped against the wood of his desk wanting above all to finish his task and return to the battlefield. Yet to do that, he had to make sure the mining site was in order.

"That damned Marbas," Nirgul cursed.

If it wasn't for Marbas taking all the low-class devils in the area, then Nirgul wouldn't have to worry about running out of low class devils to mine Devil Cores.

Still, he couldn't change the situation.

Instead, he would just have to wait and see.

* * *

The situation in the mines was such that Shirou had grown infuriated from the moment he stepped foot in them. The Devils around him were gaunt, and some so exhausted that they could barely even move.

"Go," a guard said, shoving Shirou forward.

He didn't resist and allowed himself to be taken through the mine's various passageways, all the while taking note of the places where people were being held.

Soon, he was taken into a dim-lit room that smelled of dust and sweat, a pickaxe shoved roughly into his hands. The guard from the Old Satan Faction then grunted before pointing him towards the other low-class devils mining in the area.

"You'll get no food unless you mine more than a kilogram of Devil Core," The guard said before leaving.

Shirou's eyes watched him go but didn't do anything else for a while. Instead, he fumbled with his hands to produce a small stone that Allon had given him to suppress his aura as an Ultimate-Class Devil. As soon as he crushed it, his aura would come flooding out and would serve as the sign for Serafall to launch an attack from her end.

He wordlessly tucked the stone in-between his fingers before making his way towards the other low-class devils mining at the walls.

"New comers eh?" One of the low-class devils mining said while coughing. It was an old man whose face was blackened from too much dust.

"Yes," Lucas Arthos said bitterly.

Lucas and the others who had arrived with Shirou were moved along in the same group. Therefore, they all stuck together, all looking at Shirou as their last beacon of hope for the words he had once spoken.

"My name's not very important, but you can just call me Ale," the miner said.

"Lucas," Lucas introduced himself.

"Marbas," Shirou followed up, the others quickly joining.

Ale shook his head wearily. "I don't need to know your names," Ale glanced at the ground. "I don't want to build any attachments."

Shirou rose a brow. "Is there a reason why you can't?"

"Aye," Ale nodded his head. "I may not see you again by the end of this week. It hurt me too much already when little Gabe died."

"Did they not provide food, or was it exhaustion?" Lucas asked with a pale face, thinking about his own bleak future.

Ale's face blackened as he simply gestured towards one side of the room.

The mining area was filled with the sounds of metal striking rock, but not so in the area Ale specified, rather it was deathly silent. It was only Shirou who knew otherwise. Pained groans and muffled cries entered his ears, followed by the stench of blood which he could readily discern. His eyes narrowed.

"They beat them you know," Ale said readying his axe to swing at the wall. "The guards."

The clinking of Ale's axe echoed in everyone's ears.

"It doesn't matter how well you work, so long as you catch their eye, you'd be the next one to be dragged and beaten for practice. They even call it a sport," Ale shrugged. "If you want my advice, I'd advise you all to not stand out too much in this place."

Ale resumed mining and no longer talked, leaving the others who were listening to his words in a daze.

In Shirou's case, it wasn't that he had been caught off guard like everybody else, but because he had spotted a group of said guards dragging a low-class devil towards the area Ale had designated.

It didn't take long before his enhanced hearing was able to hear what was happening there, and his face shifted into a glower.

He couldn't stand it.

 _Were men not made equal? Did rank truly mean one could forego what was right and wrong?_

An agitation like none other.

The stone Allon had given Shirou began to crack in his hands, and with it, a fluctuation in his aura.

Those around him instantly felt it, and this was more so for Lucas and the rest who were less than two feet away from him. They all shivered, the hairs on their body standing on end.

 _A power that couldn't be measured._

His steps carried him forward, placing himself in front of the guards who leered in his direction. Behind him was the low-class devil that was dragged over, Lucas and the others helping to prop the injured devil up.

"Leave," Shirou's tone was hard as he spoke to the guards.

He didn't want to release his power now as he wasn't sure of the locations of the other low-class devils in the mine, but he couldn't stand idle and watch such a heinous act either.

"Know your place," a guard said, absently swinging a magic enhanced fist.

"No," Shirou said, catching the guard's fist in hand. "Know yours."

At that moment, the stone that hid his strength fully shattered between Shirou's fingers, and the power of a Devil of the Seventy-Two Pillars erupted from around him. A red flame-like energy flooded and expanded out of the mines.

It didn't matter about waiting anymore, this was as good a time as any to start his side of the plan.

"You take pleasure from the pain of others," his voice was distorting, the air growing heavy with magical power.

The guards cowered, faces paling as they backed away.

He wouldn't allow them to do so.

 _Swords, blades, daggers._

 _A cage of floating steel._

"Do you not know that they feel pain too?" His voice continued on, the grip he had over one of the guard's fists tightening.

"AAAH!" The guard yelled but was silenced in the next moment when a suffocating pressure forced him to the ground.

"U-Ultimate Class!" The rest of the Guard's screamed inwardly, gauging the feel of the energy around them.

"M-Mercy!" They pleaded, eyes shifting towards the floating blades and then to Shirou himself.

"Mercy?"

The power around Shirou intensified, the magic circle of Marbas appearing around him.

"Mercy is for those who deserve it, you all, you're not worth dirtying my hands."

The swords descended, ending the lives of the guards where they stood. Under the effects of the All the World's Evil, his bronze coloured eyes seemed indifferent to his actions.

 _A demeanour that compelled one's awe._

Lucas and the others were dumb-struck, staring at Shirou as if they had just seen him for the first time.

 _Take pride in your lives and seek out for a future worth fighting for. Now is not the end of your lives, but the beginning._

The significance of the words Shirou had once spoken seemed to carry a greater meaning to Lucas and the others than what they had before. And they held onto those words as if they were the purest of gold.

"Stay behind me," Shirou's voice soon snapped them out of their reverie.

With the release of Shirou's aura, every High-ranking devil within the mines would be able to feel it. It wouldn't be long before more company would arrive.

As expected, Crawford, Tyne, Edith, and Launa were quick to the scene.

"What is going on here?" Edith voiced out the thoughts of the four High-Class Devils.

Yet even before Edith could receive a reply, Launa's expression stiffened. After all, she like Edith and the rest were able to pinpoint just who was releasing such a domineering aura.

"It's you, b-but that's impossible," Launa whispered, backing away.

She was already apprehensive from the moment she had first been stared down by those bronze coloured eyes, and now that they were doing so again with such intensity, her body was already unconsciously retreating.

It was only barely because Nirgul arrived that Launa was able to maintain her position.

And with Nirgul's arrival, Shirou's expression finally changed.

The strength Nirgul was releasing was unfathomably strong.

The power of an Ultimate-Class Devil.

Shirou's eyes narrowed before he rose a hand and dismissed the swords around him, much to the surprise of Edith and the others.

Nirgul himself grew intrigued. Staring at Shirou, Nirgul could feel a strength perhaps even greater than his own? As such, why would his opponent do away with his weapons?

The answer was one no one would have had expected.

Within Shirou, he was staring at darker shadow of himself painted in black-tribal marks and nodded.

"Do it," he said.

The shadow seemed to hesitate for a moment, but nonetheless, understood Shirou's meaning.

" **…then I won't hold it back any longer,** " it spoke.

Shirou understood something about Devils long before God or the other entity within him could explain it to him. They may fear the use of Holy weapons, or even Demonic weapons, however, it was a different kind of fear when compared to absolute power.

As such, he would not use his swords here. Instead, he would succumb to the natural calling of a power within him. A might he had been subconsciously repressing for fear of what it may bring, but here and now, he would release it to save those around him.

With weapons, one was strong so long as the weapon was in hand, whereas power need not have any tool to instill terror. For that terror was something that was instinctual. A right to instill submission.

 _The Red Tower Shines in the Deep._

 _Be you man?_

 _Be you Devil?_

It mattered not.

There was no voice, rather it was instinctual.

His fists clenched together, the black tribal markings over his skin shifting and writhing as if alive.

 _The King Piece of Marbas radiated with power._

Looking out at his field of vision, it felt not as if he was staring at Devils, but fragile sheep instead. His power was not that of a Devil's to begin with. It was a mix of the strength of the Marbas King Piece and the atrocities of all the World's Evil.

A unique blend, and the closest to that of those primordial.

An aura belonging to that of the Original Lucifer, an aura known as that of a Lesser Key.

 _A Demon amongst Devils_.

He didn't know when the change happened or why it happened, but perhaps it was due to his extended use of a force he should not have used excessively.

A force unseen since the ancient times once again resurfaced; the flames within a burning bush flickering if only for just a moment.

 _A pact of old._

He who once wielded the Lesser Keys, and he who was qualified to be his successor.

A magic seal once again enlarged around him, the seal spinning as ancient text drifted out to form complex smaller seals.

 _Solomon! Solomon! Wise King of Israel!_

Every other Devil around him began to shiver uncontrollably, Launa long since fleeing from the area of which she was the only one; the others too rooted in place and unable to free themselves.

Launa was lucky. She had left the moment she felt that something was wrong.

As for the others,

Nirgul felt as if he couldn't breath, and he was an Ultimate-Class Devil. If even a Devil such as him was like this, it wasn't hard to imagine how everyone else was fairing.

Crawford and Tyne's faces were already pale white, their bodies pressed against the ground, and as for Edith, she was barely standing up by supporting herself by a wall, teeth chattering.

"T-This was a low-class devil?" Edith mouthed in horror, unable to even gather the energy to glare at Crawford and Tyne. Suddenly she understood why Launa had been so apprehensive that she had retreated from the moment this monster appeared.

 _An aura that only continued to grow._

The seal of Marbas flickered with small inscriptions that took shape in the air and then lined themselves within the shifting patterns of the black markings over Shirou's body. A dull black mist began to exude from him, suffocating the area.

Tap, tap.

The sounds of his foot steps were like explosions in their ears.

 _A gentle thrum, a blue light shining._

From the black markings, blue lines began shifting up Shirou's body and traced along the sides of his chest and neck, creating an interface pattern that buzzed with magical power. Almost as if a vortex had formed, the magical energy in the air was gathering on a sole location.

Magic Circuits.

The pseudo-nervous system that spreads itself through the human body of a Magus able to connect the material world to the astral plane. The path to Magecraft.

It was like a fire had suddenly been lit, orange embers forming in the air and drifting; the pungent smell of ash and smoke beginning to permeate.

 _Trace on._

Reinforcement magic caused a thrum to emanate from his body, his body temperature sky rocketing with the full use of his magic circuits and bolstered strength. The embers danced ever wilder as steam began to emit off of him, heated vapours that blistered one's skin.

Nirgul staggered back, veins popping from anxiety.

Because through his eyes, Nirgul saw something that he never thought possible.

"No! I refuse to accept this!"

Nirgul lunged forward, magical strength enough to topple mountains gathered at his palm. He was an Ultimate-Class Devil, a walking nuclear bomb in the human world. His was a power that lead Devils against the Angels and Fallen.

And yet, he was still simply a Devil.

 _Feeble dark kin._

It was almost as if Nirgul could hear a sinister low tone, mocking him for his efforts.

He refused to acknowledge it. A trick of the mind it was!

But was it really that simple?

Nirgul's palm was caught squarely in the monster's hand, the magical energy in between warping as blackened fingers began to press. For a moment, he had thought he had heard the familiar sound of snapping bone, but he did not feel such pain in his body. Then where had it come from? It didn't matter.

His vision began to swim, feeling a pair of eyes staring down at him.

A visage that portrayed derision and disdain.

Nirgul was no longer looking at the Devil in front of him, but the shifting shadow within the Devil's aura.

 _A smile that spoke of Evil._

 _A representation of the World's taint._

Nirgul no longer had any doubts of what that shadow could be.

For there was nothing else that could release an aura and pressure like it.

The shadow of an Archdemon.

If the Seraphim of the Heavens could judge all within imperious divine light, then the Archdemons of old would combat it with unending malevolence.

Almost at the same time Nirgul accepted what was in front of him, a tattoo formed over the shadow's body.

 _Evisceration._

 _Bisection._

 _Impalement._

 _Kill, kill, KILL._

A torrent of horrific images plagued Nirgul's mind.

The images seen on that tattoo described the horrors of a curse burdened on only one, and it was crushing, forcing a choked gasp to escape Nirgul's mouth.

And that Devil paid no heed to Nirgul's inner turmoil's. Instead, blackened fingers finally squeezed and shattered the magical energy that had formed on Nirguil's palm; the Halphas magic seal around Nirgul distorting with tendrils of flickering demonic light as the Marbas magic crest over took it and engulfed it.

A deafening boom shook the area, the generated winds slaming fiercely against Edith and the rest, but they remained in place. Riveted, and unable to move their eyes away from the sight in front of them.

Nirgul Halphas, Ultimate-Class Devil and a prime leader of the Old Satan Faction was being subdued.

"No, no," Edith sputtered in denial, shaking her head while biting down on her lips. If even Nirgul couldn't escape the situation, then her life and her companion's lives were already forfeit.

Crawford and Tyne clenched their fists, faces stricken with grief.

No one wanted to die, and this was a universal truth.

One would fight their hardest in the face of death and even unleash a potential one never knew existed.

This should have had been the case for Nirgul as he had once done so in the very battlefield of the Great War between the Factions, but this time was different. Even if he could feel a rise in his strength from the flowing adrenaline in his body, his mind was already blank.

At the point where Shirou's hand and Nirgul's hand connected upon impact, curses were steadily flowing into Nirgul's body and eroding his strength without his notice.

"Damn it," Nirgul cursed under his breath. Yet more than that, it was his way of coping.

He shivered, the impression of the Devil in front of him long since shifting to something equivalent to fear and reverence.

Devils were beings that worshipped power and purity of blood.

 _The Seventy-Two Pillars, the Kings and Queens of the Underworld._

 _Great Kings, Archdukes, and Marquises._

Yet what were mere titles worth?

His body trembled, his eyes glazing.

The figure in the shadow stared silently at Nirgul in contempt, it eyes bottomless pits of red. A single gesture of its hands, and it was enough to convey its intentions even before an overwhelming power pressed down on Nirgul's shoulders.

It was a command.

 _Kneel._

Nirgul's control over his body seemed to leave him, his expression darkening in doubt and realization.

 _Bloodline Suppression!_

All Devils originated from their progenitors, the Demons of the Seventy-Two Pillars and Nirgul was no exception. To begin with, Demons and Devils should not even be compared on the same level. A single command of a Demon could influence the strength of the _entirety_ of a Demon's legions. As such, no matter how strong a Devil became, they couldn't escape their own blood.

His body quickly fell onto its knees, a derisive self mockery in his eyes.

Old Satan Faction, New Satan Faction, what a joke.

Nirgul lamented his own inability to see what was right before him. He, a once proud general of the Devil army lowered his head. Only now could he understand it.

With the downfall of the Four Great Satans, the spawns of the Original Lucifer, only one was now befitting to rule. A devil of the purest blood.

 _He whose strength was that of the primordial Archdemons._

"Loyalty to the Great One!" Nirgul yelled, his arms coming to press by his chest as he forcefully saluted on a knee.

 _The formal salute of the Devil Faction of the Great War._

A strong shout, and one filled with conviction.

Crawford, Tyne, and Edith were shocked,

but perhaps the one that was the most unsettled was the Devil in question himself.

"…" _What?_

* * *

Shirou winced from the fractured bones in his right arm, but not a single change appeared over his face. Although he was emitting the strength and power far beyond that of a Devil's, it didn't mean that his body could constantly endure such high levels of energy. The impact of Nirgul's attack had disrupted an already fragile balance, but Shirou used his own will to tough through it.

" **Are you alright?** " A voice said from a shadow. Of everyone present, only Nirgul would be able to recognize it. For it was the very same shadow that had been toying with his mind.

"I'm fine," Shirou conveyed internally to the shadow while forcing back the pain.

And yet, he didn't let go of his current strength, for he still had use of it.

Strong bronze eyes swept across the Devils in front of him, none able to meet his gaze.

Nirgul was still in front of him, head bowed and body in salute.

This wasn't exactly the outcome Shirou was expecting, but it was the only outcome in which he could save everyone without casualty. Nirgul Halphas was a genuine Ultimate-Class Devil, and he would have had been the first Devil of that rank that Shirou would have had ever opposed. As such, he couldn't even begin to imagine the amount of collateral damage a battle between them would produce. More so because it would kill the low-class devils behind him who were already weakened from forced labour.

Shirou stayed his hand, dropping it to his side.

"Stand up and tell the others to cease fighting," Shirou's voice was distorted and flat, giving the others the impression that he wasn't to be trifled with.

"This one hears and obeys," Nirgul said gruffly, glancing towards Edith and the rest and glaring. "Why have you not given your allegiance?" He seethed.

"T-This heiress of House Aim, Edith Aim pledges allegiance," Edith was quick to bow, her legs all but giving up on her.

"E-Edith?!" Crawford and Tyne's expressions seemed to say before their moods soured.

Logically speaking, Edith's decision was the most practical. Even if they couldn't understand why Nirgul would suddenly pledge allegiance, it was a fact that the Devil named Marbas had the power to force them to do so. However, how could Edith make up her mind so easily to betray the Old Satan Faction?

At least for Crawford and Tyne, they were apprehensive about it. More so when they considered that their parents may likely disown them as a result. Still, in this kind of situation, their lives were ultimately more important.

"We pledge allegiance," the two said at the same time with resigned nods.

Shirou's response was only a subtle gesture of acceptance, but to Lucas and the other low-class devils behind Shirou, their world views seemed to shatter.

To them, Shirou had merely walked out and then the entire situation changed with just a single one of his actions.

Nirgul got up onto his feet and immediately ordered all the nearby devils of the Old Satan Faction to stand down much to Lucas and the other low-class devil's relief.

"Lucas," Shirou called.

"Y-Yes?!" Lucas replied.

"Do you remember where the other cells holding the other low-class devils were when we were brought here?"

Lucas fell silent for a moment, before nodding in confirmation.

"Free them," he said.

Lucas nodded without another thought, moving in the direction of the cells.

Subsequently, Shirou's gaze then moved to Crawford and Tyne. "Help him," he said.

The two had thoughts of rejecting but quailed under the oppression of Shirou's aura. The pressure over their shoulders was just too much to bear especially considering that Shirou had the power to end their lives on whim.

The two urgently left.

"T-Then what do you wish of me?" Edith asked as soon as Crawford and Tyne fled after Lucas.

Shirou kept silent, causing Edith's mouth to open and close in nervousness, not sure if she should speak out anymore.

All things considered, Shirou wasn't actually sure what he should ask of her but hearing the pained moans of the low-class devils behind him, he made up his mind.

"Treat the injured," he said coldly.

Even if Edith was currently quite pitiful in appearance, it was true that she had taken part in the low-class devil's suffering much like Nirgul, Crawford, and Tyne. It would take a great deal of time before Shirou could actually forgive them for their actions, but it was true that their actions may not entirely be their fault. The fault instead lied in their upbringing and their sense of what was right and wrong.

Nirgul on the other hand, was another matter entirely. He was someone Shirou wasn't inclined to forgive as he had done such actions at his own discretion as an Ultimate-Class Devil. Yet, if Nirgul's pledge was true, then he could use Nirgul to help in the war effort, lessening the load on the other devils of the New Satan Faction.

Mouth thinning, he held his judgment when it came to Nirgul and decided it would be best to discuss this kind of matter with Serafall who he knew would eventually be involved in underworld politics.

"U-Understood," Edith complied, sighing in relief now that she had a reason to distance herself from Shirou.

With her departure, only Nirgul was left from those on the Old Satan Faction's side.

"Is there anything else, my Lord?" Nirgul asked.

"Did you call off every devil here?" Shirou asked to verify as he still heard the sounds of fighting.

"In the current vicinity yes, but I'd need to go to the magic circle in my office to transmit orders on a larger scale," Nirgul said.

Shirou didn't even take a moment to think.

"Then by all means, lets go."

Nirgul nodded once and then began leading in a direction opposite from where Edith had gone to obtain the medical supplies.

Shirou didn't follow the man immediately, rather he made sure to find a place for the low-class devils to rest first before quickly catching up.

The passage way Nirgul led him through was cramped, but the walls were evidently worked on as they were smooth and lined with burning wax torches.

Eventually, Nirgul led Shirou through two large oaken doors and entered Nirgul's office.

Inside was as Shirou expected, lavish and impractical. Jewels and fine furs were spread across the room mounted on wooden planks for display. It was almost as if every High or Ultimate-Class Devil had the need to show off their rank through expensive furniture and design. Even the candle holders used when evening came were made out of gold.

Shirou's lip twitched, but Nirgul didn't pay attention to his reaction. Instead, Nirgul moved towards the desk at the far end of the room and activated a magic that transmitted his voice outwards in all directions.

Everywhere, all fighting stopped as those on the Old Satan Faction's side stood stupefied as Nirgul ordered them to cease fighting. Perhaps the most shocked was Serafall and Allon who were attacking at the front.

From the plan Allon devised in the presence of Serafall and Shirou, once Shirou began attacking from the inside, Serafall would lead her men to attack from the outside. In this way, it was guaranteed that the enemy would be unable to defend the stronghold. After all, in Allon's plans, both Shirou and Serafall who were Ultimate-Class Devils should have had possessed enough strength to defeat any Old Satan Faction devils stationed in the area. This wasn't because the devils on the Old Satan Faction were weak, but rather, most of their Ultimate-Class Devils were on the front lines.

The fact that an Ultimate-Class Devil like Nirgul Halphas was present had caused Serafall to unconsciously stare hatefully at Allon when the news had reached her. She had been against the idea to begin with and now the situation was one where it was an Ultimate-Class Devil against another.

As such, she resolved herself to a hard-fought battle, and yet after the battle had just barely began, it was over?

Serafall's mind was in a state of confusion, and yet it cleared almost immediately when she spotted someone leaving in the distance.

She glanced at Allon before making sure that the fighting was indeed over, and then promptly left much to Allon's protest.

Meanwhile, back in Nirgul's office, Shirou's eyes shifted to the sole object laid over top Nirgul's desk.

"A map?"

The words slipped from out of Shirou's mouth.

"An important one," Nergul explained. "It shows the locations of the other supply posts and labour camps."

Hearing what Nirgul said, Shirou immediately walked over and took the map into his possession. It wasn't as useful to him since he wasn't familiar with the geography of the Underworld, but he was sure that Serafall would have a use for it.

Nirgul didn't even bat an eye to his actions, instead inwardly praising him for his shrewdness.

After pocketing the map, Shirou did a coursery glance of Nirgul's office and then promptly left towards the front gate to meet with Serafall, Nirgul following closely behind.

However, when he arrived, all Shirou saw was Allon and the other devils of the New Satan Faction. Near them were traces of ice and snow, making it clear that Serafall _had_ been fighting in the area.

As he approached Allon, only a single question entered his mind.

Where was Serafall?

* * *

Far beyond the reaches of the mines, a figure dashed hurriedly through the terrain.

Launa felt cold, but she felt that it was simply an effect from the aura of that _monster_ she had immediately left behind.

Magical power was laced into her legs as she leapt through the surrounding environment of bramble, trees, and rocks.

Her clothes grew dirtied and torn, and even the presumptuous air she had once carried as a nobility of the Seventy-Two Pillars had long since disappeared. Instead, all that remained was an unsteady trepidation.

She swallowed, her eyes darting left and right while beads of perspiration lined her brow. Never in her life had she undergone such laborious physical exertion even in the war. It had always been so simple for her to just raise a hand and incinerate those before her with a blast of magical power. This situation where she was forced to run along the ground like a feral animal was a first for her.

No words could describe just how dearly she wished to just bolster herself with her family's magic circle and take off into the sky. Yet she didn't dare.

Even if it was faster, there was no point to it if she lost her life by going out in the open.

A shiver ran down her spine as she refused to glance back behind her from the direction she was fleeing from. That kind of power, what kind of Devil did one have to be to possess something so sinister?

Surely that kind of devil was one that had fought in the Great War Between the Factions; a figure of Devil kind that struck terror into the hearts of the Angels and Fallen.

Then why was he fighting fellow Devils and not wishing to continue the war for the glory of the Devil race?

She pursed her lips and didn't dare to seek him out to obtain an answer. More so when she considered what she had done to him on their first meeting and the unfeeling eyes he had used to stare back at her.

 _Oh God._

The pain in invoking that Great One's name didn't even affect her in her fear, rather it added to the haunting figure that had steadily formed in her mind. A cold-blooded demon that would snap her like a twig.

She'd be killed for sure!

She had always been cautious by nature, and she'd been a fool to delude herself into thinking that with just her strength she wouldn't need to fear anything from low-class devils. In the end, the trouble came from within that group of low-class devils, the demon in her very psyche, Marbas.

A chagrined expression came over her face even as she ran. It just wasn't fair that an Ultimate-Class Devil like that would mingle in the company of low-class devils. How was she supposed to know that she was tugging on a lion's tail?

The irony of referring to Marbas as a lion was not lost on her for he belonged to the Noble house of Marbas, Lion of the Underworld.

She shuddered, what a fool she had been.

All things considered though, she probably wouldn't have had been in such a fragile state of mind if she knew the kind of character her new mental demon was. After all, despite harming him, it wouldn't be unexpected if the man in question simply let her off with his kind of personality.

* * *

 _And yet, some things just couldn't be let go._

* * *

Dashing forward, she left a trail of dirt and grime behind her ignorant of her actions as she had never retreated in such a fashion before.

It was cold.

So damnably cold.

The wind seemed to cut right though her skin and down to her bones, her lips beginning to quiver.

"What the hell," she muttered, rubbing at her arms. "Snow?"

Indeed, drifting before her eyes were flecks of white snow, dancing in the frigid breeze.

She wanted badly to stop, and assess her situation, but her anxiety was preventing her from doing just that. What if she turned around, and that demon was there?

It was a lingering fear, the kind she thought she had long since gotten rid of in her child hood; the fear that should she look beneath her bed, there would be something there to stare back at her.

Almost as soon as she considered the thought, it was with startling realization that her senses _screamed_ that there was something there, watching her.

She hastened her pace, her breath escaping her lips and condensing into a white vapour that blew across her face.

 _One flake of snow became dozens._

The area around her gradually shifted into a never ending white landscape, and it was only when her feet sunk shin-deep into snow that dread began to pool within her.

She jittered nervously, unable to understand nor comprehend what was happening.

Cold, colder than she had ever been before.

She wanted to scream but knew there was no point in it. If she wanted to survive, she had to think. And to think meant stopping, lest she end up from one death trap into another.

Without her moving, the snow was now pelting her like heavy droplets of rain, little bits and pieces melting and seeping through the fabric of her garments. Soon, the flush of her skin gradually began to shift to a pale blue.

"…" She wanted to voice her misgivings but no words could come out.

Before she realized it, the area around her all looked the same. The trees, the bramble, the rocks, all were covered in several sheets of snow that were somehow able to pile so neatly as to form a level surface. It was like she was standing in Antarctica of the Human World, a land of ice devoid of anything else.

Which way was she supposed to run again? It was truly hard to tell. More so now that she could only barely see a few meters in front of her. The falling snow had simply become a blizzard that hampered her in every way.

She stumbled forward as she picked a random direction to move in, her hands falling to support her and plunging into the icy snow. Covered in snow, her hands quickly grew numb, and she once again found herself standing idle after getting back onto her feet.

She wanted to go home.

It was a thought filled with longing.

She didn't want to participate in this war anymore.

She wanted to be pampered and attended to, her words to once again to be taken as law.

Her face twisted despondently, nothing she could come up with could explain her current situation. To begin with, she had never heard of a Devil territory this cold so far to the east of the Underworld.

Arms crossing around her chest, the action gave little warmth to her at the moment.

"Why is this happening?" Her voice came out in a rasp, and almost as a response to her words, the blizzard around her intensified such that it became difficult to move.

No. It wasn't that it became difficult to move, it was that she _couldn't_ move.

!

The sounds of crunching snow filtered into her ears from a short distance behind her, and her dread shifted into terror and despair as she understood what they were. Foot steps.

 _Move! Move!_

She continued to yell at herself, but it was all for naught.

Her blue lips quivered as a hand made its way onto her shoulder, fingers clasping down one by one like deathly vices.

Pale and slender, it was the hand of a woman.

"You hurt him."

The voice that spoke was casual, but the killing intent in it was anything but.

Launa wanted to speak, to plead for mercy, but was horrified to realize that she could no longer even do just that. She was on the verge of freezing, the vibrance of her skin already shifting to a pale white.

That hand slowly left her shoulder, sliding along the base of her neck until it was as if it was caressing her face, the only part left unfrozen. She didn't even feel it when another body pressed up against hers, a mouth stopping mere inches away from one of her ears.

"You hurt him," the voice spoke again, the temperature seeming to plummet further, and only then did Launa realize who her assailant was.

The Devil whose magic leveled a battlefield.

The heir of House Sitri.

 _The Ice Queen._

"Now allow me to return the favour."

Eyes widening, Launa could do nothing as the hands of winter slowly wrapped around her.

-An eternal embrace.

* * *

The prisoners were freed, and there were barely any casualties. These two facts alone would have had been worth celebrating if Shirou wasn't so tired, granted it was approaching the evening.

Body threatening to collapse on him, he gave one glance at Nirgul and dismissed the man before moving in the direction of the nearest housing. In this case, it was a shabby one room cabin made of timber and thatch that contained only a bed and a small desk.

Nirgul had been appalled by such a sight believing it wasn't suited for someone of Shirou's status, however Shirou had left no room for arguments.

Thereafter, Shirou entered the room and closed the door behind him, much to Allon's irritation who had been waiting for the chance to talk with him. After all, somehow recruiting an Ultimate-Class Devil like Nirgul was not included in Allon's plans.

Still, Allon was patient if anything, more so because he spotted a figure making her way towards the unassuming cabin as Nirgul left.

A small smile formed over Allon's lips. Even if he couldn't get his answer in person, he could trust that a certain other would be able to get them. Adjusting the mask over his face, he bade a quick 'good luck,' towards the approaching figure and promptly left.

Said figure suddenly felt irritated as a result, pausing in her steps to survey her surroundings. Seeing nothing however, she frowned and then continued on her course, stopping as she arrived at the door of the cabin and giving herself a once-over. Her face scrunched up as a result, her hands moving to straighten out her clothes and tidy her ruffled hair.

It was only then that the figure pushed open the door of the cabin and entered.

"Kuro," Serafall called in greeting as she walked in.

A small smile was blooming across her face and an air of jubilance seemed to surround her. However, that jubilance faded when she considered the type of situation the Underworld was still in, and how she should act because of it. It simply wasn't the time to be carefree.

Shirou was directly in front of her, standing by the desk.

"Serafall," he said slowly, his gaze meeting hers.

For a moment, Serafall lost herself in that calm gaze, but she quickly shook her head and narrowed her eyes. Although he had completed his part of the mission, she was frustrated that he didn't consider any of the dangers. Sure, he had somehow recruited Nirgul Halphas, but could he do that with every devil he'd come across? Impossible.

As she opened her mouth to reprimand him, she promptly closed it when her eyes drifted over to his chest. Seeing him take a lashing from a distance, she wasn't able to see the full extent of his injuries. Yet now that she was just a mere few meters in front of him, she could see the pale scars that stretched from his lower neck down to his waist, and they caused a cold fury to once again burn within her.

 _He didn't deserve this._

A feeling of bitterness soon welled up within her.

"I won't allow you to do this to yourself again, Kuro," she said resolutely.

No matter what excuse she used, it was still herself who had allowed Kuro to undergo this kind of mission. Therefore, a part of his injuries had her to blame. More than anything, she felt both grief and pain when she looked at him in this state. She had no doubts that not only did Kuro experience a lashing, but he must have had tapped into that power he used in the Marbas Territory. A great and horrid power it was, but the ramifications of using it were still something both Kuro and Serafall were unclear of.

Her lips pursed together when Kuro didn't answer her, and she started trembling when she thought he might refuse her words.

Everything else just seemed to leave her at that moment. She didn't care that she didn't know how Kuro recruited Nirgul Halphas. Hell, a deeper part of her didn't even care if he had even been able to save the other devils. What seemed to matter to her was Kuro and Kuro alone.

 _The seed of admiration that had been planted within her on that night was gradually shifting into something more profound._

She didn't want to see a Devil like him hurt.

She didn't want to see any burdens over his shoulders.

These feeling and these thoughts were ones she couldn't understand, for they were unreasonable given the amount of time they had spent together.

But then again, it was natural.

Because she too was a Devil.

A being known to be selfish and driven by motive. More so when it was something of desire.

"Kuro!" She said more fiercely when he had yet to answer her.

It was almost as if Kuro were in a daze, and in fact he was.

When Serafall had shouted, Shirou had just been enduring a bout of dizziness from All the World's Evil that caused him to blank.

Placing a hand on his temple, Shirou did his best to clear his mind, neglecting to answer Serafall in the process. Instead, he was desperately trying to maintain consciousness long enough to convey the necessary words to Serafall.

"Here," Shirou said, tossing the map he had obtained from Nirgul's office, and saying nothing else.

He was sure that the map was self explanatory after he had left a small note on the top. For now, he was just relieved that he was able to convey the necessary proceedings. Thereafter, another wave of dizziness once again washed over him when he began to relax as a result.

"This is a map?" Serafall said, Shirou's sudden action of tossing a map at her forcing her to shift her priorities.

Once Serafall gave the map a once over, her eyes gleamed. However, she didn't comment on it and instead placed it into a small pocket on her side.

Her arms then crossed together.

"There's no getting out of this conversation, Kuro. Not even this map is enough to save you," she said, her brows furrowing.

Silence.

"I know it may be hard for you to not risk your life to save others, Kuro, but don't you understand that putting yourself in such a dangerous situation isn't worth it?" Serafall attempted to reason. "I refuse to allow you to act like your life isn't worth more than anyone else's."

Silence.

"Hey, are you listening?" She asked, walking to stand in front of him.

He hadn't been answering for a while now, and she quickly realized that it had only been her talking for the past few minutes. Therefore, she felt that she may have been getting ignored and approached him to investigate.

She hadn't been expecting it when it happened though. In fact, all she had remembered as she had walked in front of him was his body suddenly lurching forward, and her mind subsequently going blank.

The next moment, a feeling of weightlessness took over her as the both of them fell over towards the laid-out mattress behind them.

They landed on the bed on their sides, their legs sprawled out as Kuro's arms came to wrap around her.

She froze, her breath coming out erratically.

"Kuro?"

It was but a feeble call, soft spoken and not one Serafall ever thought herself able to make. Yet for some reason, even as Kuro had pushed himself onto her, she couldn't raise her voice to him.

She pursed her lips, her eye-lids drooping as she hesitated.

Had he made that big of an impact on her?

Marbas, the heir of House Marbas of the Seventy-Two Pillars. A Devil who fought not for himself, but those around him.

Those eyes that had once stared at her in the silence of that evening were striking in the conviction that they held. For they spoke to her of change. The change that one man could bring.

 _The heralding of a certainty._

Her arms subconsciously wrapped around him, pulling him close such that the heat coming off from his body could be directly transferred through the light fabric of her clothes. The feeling was driving her crazy, but her mind held on to reason.

She had always been perceptive, and she hadn't seen any signs of what Kuro may feel for her, making the situation too sudden. Admittedly though, this reasoning took her far longer to realize than it should have. Clearly, she was ruffled, but incredibly, a part of her was actually _expecting_ something.

She snorted derisively and gathered her courage to stare Kuro in the face to understand his intentions.

She then noticed something.

His eyes were half-lidded, his expression vacant, and when she thought back to what he had endured, she couldn't help but smile fondly while mocking her own self excitement.

She had come to lecture him on his actions, but in the end, it ended up like this. Still,

 _He did well._

In the silence of the room, Serafall raised a hand and absently ran it through Kuro's hair before then tenderly cradling his head in her arms, her thoughts unknown.

Kuro's sleeping face was peaceful, free of the anguish and indecision he had when he was awake. It was a face that she realized would only grow more handsome the longer she stared.

Slowly, her face came precariously close to his, her heart beating audibly in her chest.

 _Ba-dump ba-dump._

She swallowed, seemingly knocking herself out of her daze, and by then, her lips were but a single touch away from his.

She could feel his breath, could see his exhaustion and weariness, but even then, she could only admire him more.

 _For what purpose did he fight for?_

Simply for an Underworld in which every Devil could be proud of.

 _What a fool_ , she couldn't help but think rationally, but there were always expectations in a dream. Especially one she now shared.

She stared at him furtively, and her expression could not have been anymore alluring as it was then.

Her mouth moved away from his lips, and instead she pressed her forehead against his; the contact causing her insides to flutter, but she was content with the feeling.

 _Even if it was just a little,_ her thoughts trailed off, a dangerous wistfulness in her actions as she imagined something more.

Still,

She suppressed her desires, pulling her face away from his and instead, gently hugging his head into the crook of her shoulder, listening as his breathing evened.

With the Civil War still going strong, the future would only be plagued and mired with obstacles.

There was work to be done, and with the map Kuro had obtained, a lot more Devils to be rescued, yet all of that could simply wait. Even the words she wanted to say.

For now,

Only one thing mattered in her mind.

She nuzzled her chin over Kuro's head and closed her eyes after saying a single sentence.

"Rest well, Kuro."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! And a small note in the bottom.**

 **P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious**

 **NOTE: This week and last week were probably the hardest times for me to write with final exams and lab exams going on at the same time, and I would just like to thank the support I got in that time. Thank you, I just wanted to show my appreciation for those readers who have followed me up to this far.**

 **Thanks Again!**


	23. The Sword and the Underworld: Part 8

The Fourth Day of the Seventh Month of the Underworld Calendar began the start of the battle of Kalinse Plains.

It was an event that occurred near the height of the Underworld Civil War between the New and Old Satan Factions, and it was the one that became the most notable.

As a flat plain of land, geography paid no value and the battle itself was a head-on confrontation between both sides. Which made the events of the battle all the more startling as they couldn't be fabricated.

There were no trees to block sight, there were no hills to impair judgment, the truth was out in the open and all present had borne witness to the red tide.

-From the Records of Marbas, Last Demon of the Underworld.

-Archived by Adelina Swiftblade, Ultimate-Class Devil and Knight of Serafall Leviathan.

* * *

"Haaaaa,"

A long and drawn out sigh, filled with weariness and exhaustion followed by the sound of a creaking chair.

"I say Sirzechs, are we not already losing when the work is already this difficult?"

The question came from a rather apathetic looking man whose bald head was the result of his own laziness. Rather than grow it out and go to the trouble of making it presentable in any aristocratic gatherings, he'd rather just shave it all and wax it polished. Of course, the goatee on his chin was a different matter entirely. The pride of a man was in his beard after all, and slothful as Falbium Glasya-Labolas was, he too was a man.

Therefore, perhaps the only thing that frightened a man such as Falbium was the prospect of getting a wife who would nag at him and insist on shaving his pride and joy like the situation that had befallen the unfortunate devil he called friend.

He stared long and hard.

"Is there a problem, Lord Glasya-Labolas?"

The woman standing by Sirzech's side answered in Sirzech's stead, gaze sharp. She was beautiful for a woman. With long silver hair that stretched to her back and a chest that bulged from the corset she wore over a white blouse, admittedly Sirzechs had good standards. Now if only her refined facial features and red eyes weren't marred by the glare on her face. Then she would have had been perfect.

Still, Falbium knew that obtaining such a beauty would come at a cost.

Falbium furrowed his brows, his mouth closing as he glanced at Sirzech's clean-shaven face before he promptly shook his head in disappointment. A regrettable loss had occurred for the Underworld.

"Nothing too major, Ms. Lucifuge, just lost in my ideology of 'to work is to lose,'" Falbium shrugged before slouching over the table in front of him and resting his head in his arms. "This battle at Kalinse Plains is taking its toll on us after all."

"Is that so?" Grayfia spoke with a lip twitching despite Sirzechs trying to placate her. "You are the very picture of exhausted," she said with heavy sarcasm.

Falbium didn't seem to care. In fact, he was even using the mantle of the Glasya-Labolas family as a blanket hugged around his chest.

"All in the mind, Ms. Lucifuge." Falbium pointed at his head. "Exhaustion comes in many forms."

A man smirked from amusement on the far side of the seated table that everyone was gathered around. Different from Falbium, this man carried an intellectual air that many would describe as devilish, leading to the fall of numerous women who experienced his charm for the first time. The eldest of the Astaroth family, Ajuka Astaroth. A man famed for his intellect that reflected entirely in the very own school of magic he had created. A magic able to control all phenomenon using equations and formulas.

His green hair was slicked back, and the collared sweater he wore beneath his mantle was neatly placed over his shoulders. He was the image of high-class aristocracy but was far laxer when compared to traditionalists.

"It's true that exhaustion can come in many forms, my friend, but can't the same be said for laziness. Care to counter my reply military genius Falbium?" Ajuka bantered.

Falbium's eyes glanced up from where his head was pressed to his arms.

"A war of words with you, Ajuka? I'll pass. Besides, if it weren't for our enemies biting at our throats I'd probably be asleep now anyway."

Falbium then threw his hands up into the air and righted his posture. Now that Ajuka had spoken, there was no longer any room for slacking. Amicable as Ajuka may appear, he was rather forceful when necessary. Especially considering the situation as it was now.

The battle of Kalinse Plain and the disadvantage they were in as a result of an unforeseen incident.

"A sixth of the Devils under my command can not be expected to return to battle after their confrontation with Euclid Lucifuge," Falbium said frankly.

"…"

Grayfia remained silent as her hands balled into fists. Euclid Lucifuge was her younger brother, and she knew that he had always looked up to her. However, she didn't share in his loyalties to the Original Lucifer. Not after meeting Sirzechs. But Euclid was still her younger brother, her family.

Her eyes closed shut and her teeth clenched. She hadn't known how Euclid was coping with her betrayal of the Old Satan Faction, but as the loyalist she knew him to be, she had speculated that it wouldn't be too well. It was just that she wasn't expecting how devastated Euclid had become to lose all sense of reason and immediately charge at her on sight.

The very casualties and injuries sustained by the devils under Falbium was a direct result of Euclid's crazed advance. What guilted Grayfia however, was the fact that she knew that she had had the power to stop Euclid but was unable to bring herself to garner enough strength to act.

"I still think it's better for me to go," Sirzechs said after glancing at Grayfia and furrowing his brows. His hands naturally fell on the table before him as he leaned forward. "My strength is enough to pierce a hole through whatever defensive line that they can set up. In truth I could probably handle half of them if I struggled hard enough."

The expression in Falblium's eyes as he stared Sirzechs after his remark was telling.

"And you don't think the enemies wouldn't know that? They aren't stupid," Falbium said strongly.

Falbium was renowned for his military genius, and it was a direct result of his tactics and stratagems that had allowed the weaker members of the New Satan Faction to triumph over the Old in numerous occasions. His words were not to be taken lightly.

Seeing the situation was going nowhere, Ajuka cleared his throat and intervened.

"In all likelihood, you going out would be a trap," Ajuka said before peering at Grayfia and considering the words that she had once said.

He frowned moments later. "There's an enemy that hides in the shadows if Grayfia's words are to be trusted. A Super Devil like ourselves Sirzechs. The fact that such a Super Devil has yet to even participate in the war implies that he is either indifferent to it or is simply waiting for an opportunity."

Sirzechs listened to Ajuka's words but didn't change his stance.

"With the situation as it is right now Ajuka, I hardly have a choice," Sirzechs said wearily. Wrinkles were forming on his forehead, and he seemed to be exceedingly conflicted on the matter.

"No, Sirzechs. Ajuka is right. The risk of sending you out is too high when considering what the defeat of a leading Super Class Devil like yourself would have on the morale of our men and women. Such a risk would never be tactically advised," Falbium said, eyes narrowed. "Besides you'd find yourself at the losing end of a battle before the war even started anyway."

Sirzechs rose a brow in confusion yet only understood when an arm forcibly slipped around his and clamped down without any intention of letting go.

"Listen to reason Sirzechs. If that man is truly out there like Ajuka speculated, you on your own may not be enough," Grayfia said worriedly. "It may be different if Ajuka was with you, but the formation of our side would crumble without his and Falbium's leadership. You can't go. Not without certainty."

"Then what do you expect me to do? Stand back and watch as those who trusted in me die!?"

Sirzechs was un-resigned, the wood of the table beneath Sirzechs' hands splintering and breaking into chips in his frustration.

Falbium sighed. "That was imported wood," he said dismissively. "But I suppose it doesn't matter."

Falbium raised his fingers. "A month," he said. "I can buy us a month's worth of time to think of something, but it's quite likely that even if we arrive victorious in this battle, it would a pyrrhic victory."

Despite Falbium's words, the New Satan Faction couldn't afford a pyrrhic victory. Although the forces of the Old and New Satan Factions appeared even at first glance, the differences in the individual powers of each devil was already too apparent. Those that had joined the New Satan Faction's side were the newer devils of the underworld who were generally far weaker than the devils of the Old Satan Faction that survived the War of the Factions. Therefore, despite having a larger number of devils on the New Satan Factions side, over all, the Old was still stronger and many devils knew this. As a result, the New Satan Faction was always short on recruitment. For even if the devils sided with the New Satan Faction, they didn't have the power to change anything. It was only the rise of Super Devils like Ajuka and Sirzechs that gave the New Satan Faction its definite edge.

The group fell silent, but pressured under Grayfia's gaze, Sirzechs nodded in consent.

"Do what you must, Falbium," Sirzechs spoke. "We'll come up with something, I promise."

Falbium nodded before reluctantly standing up and making his way out of the room. The temporary respite between the Old and the New would not last for much longer, and he needed to maintain a defensive position. For such a means, Falbium knew it was best to always prepare sooner rather than later. Even though the battlefield was an open plain and any defensive measures Falbium could take would be witnessed, seeing didn't mean that the strength of the defence would decrease. More likely it would increase instead knowing the belittling attitudes of the Old Satan Faction. It was why he was confident to last for five days; for knowing the enemy was the key to the art of war.

The flapping of the tent signalled Falbium's exit, and the three left inside glanced at each in fatigue.

"We can only hope that Serafall receives word of the situation soon," Ajuka said, clasping his hands together. "Last I remember contacting her, it was when I gave her the location of an enemy logistic site. However, knowing her the way we do, she would have had at most delegated the task to a trusted subordinate rather than do it herself and leave the battlefield. Something must have had happened to change her mind."

It had been months since the last time anyone had heard news of Serafall's whereabouts and her absence in the war was already beginning to show. If she had been there at the beginning, it was almost certain that Euclid Lucifuge would not have had been able to push through Falbium's flank to injure or kill so many devils. Perhaps then the situation would have had been different with the morale not being so low and the number of deserters not increasing day by day.

What was she doing at a time like this?

Ajuka held back the sigh that was threatening to spill from his mouth as it was useless to lament over an issue one could not change.

Left unsaid, even with Serafall's arrival, the situation would be hard to salvage.

At this point, a miracle was necessary.

* * *

By the time Shirou first woke up in a state of grogginess, he felt that something was missing from where he had slept. It was a feeling of warmth that had wrapped around him in his dreams, but he quickly shook it off in favour of getting out of bed and understanding what was going on.

From the noise he could hear outside, something large must have had occurred in his absence.

He pushed the covers of the bed off of himself and stood up on his feet, dizziness assaulting his head as his blood worked harder to circulate within his body. Almost immediately afterwards, the pain caused by maintaining his current appearance set in, the tribal marking over his body stinging like heated irons.

His face didn't so much as twitch anymore. Pain, he now understood, was all in the mind. He could ignore it, so long as he chose not to register it; not that it didn't come with any detriments by doing so but he preferred to at least be able to function normally.

He walked towards the exit of the room and pushed the door open leading outside.

"How long ago was this sent?"

Serafall's voice subsequently entered his ears.

She had her back to him and in her hands was an opened letter that she was gripping so hard that it was already wrinkled. From the way her lips pursed together and her brow furrowed, whatever content the letter had wasn't good news.

"A week ago, my lady," Allon said, while noticing Shirou and gesturing for Serafall to turn around.

"Ah," Serafall exclaimed in surprise. "You're awake. Sorry for my reaction, you've just been sleeping for almost two days now."

He simply inclined his head. He had grown used to the persona he was exemplifying, and it made it easier to cope with the pain he was under by not speaking too often. As such, he preferred using body gestures and signs to convey his intentions when possible. Still, this wasn't one of those situations.

"What's going on?" He asked.

The last that he remembered was setting order to the mountain logistics site, and then handing Serafall a map of the other key locations. Therefore, he was convinced that he hadn't neglected anything before falling unconscious.

Serafall pursed her lips, not sure where she should begin, but realizing that it would be best if she just let him read the letter in her hand.

She gave it to him without much fanfare before crossing her arms and pondering to herself.

The letter detailed the current situation in the latest battle between the Old Satan Faction and the New Faction at Kalinse Plains. Needless to say, the current situation of the war wasn't in the New Satan Faction's favour.

Reading further, his mood began to plummet as he considered everything from another perspective. Was this situation brought upon by his own intervention? It was more than likely as he could determine that Serafall should not have had been with him at this time based on the inquires of her actions written in the letter.

His eyes glanced sharply at Serafall who was biting her lip.

"What do you intend to do?" He asked.

"I'm going to make my way to the battlefield. Maybe I can change something if I get there fast enough with everyone else," she bit her thumb in confliction.

"And I'm telling you milady, not every devil under your command has the capability to keep up with your speed. Even then there would only be a select few which can hardly impact a large-scale war. What is one person to an army? Especially one who would have had exhausted their magical energy in their haste." Allon persisted on the side, trying to dissuade Serafall from taking rash actions and hinting at Shirou to help him.

Thinking for a moment, Shirou knew that acting rashly wasn't something Serafall should do which was ironic when he considered his own actions in the Holy Grail War. Regardless, he had grown to understand that his actions had consequences on not just himself, but the people around him, and it was this reasoning that was able to restrain his impulses.

"He's right Serafall," he spoke, making sure that their gaze met. "There are some things that you can't do on your own even if you have great power."

Serafall's eyes narrowed before drooping. "E-Even you Kuro? You're against me too?"

He shook his head before placing a palm on her shoulder.

"I said that there are certain things that you can't do on your own. Then doesn't that mean that one should ask for help." Shirou said wryly.

Serafall stared at his impassive gaze, and suddenly felt reassured.

"Then you have a way?" She said frankly, all pretenses left forgotten as an air of seriousness surrounded her.

He simply nodded his head. This was his fault for changing things, therefore it was up to him to remedy it. Fortunately, when he had last unleashed the magic seal of Marbas, more than just one function of the seal was made apparent to him.

Who was Marbas? A President of the Underworld and most importantly, a leader of thirty-six legions. When Marbas and the other Seventy-Two pillars moved, how then did their legions follow? The answer lied in their magic crests. Just as present-day devils were able to summon their familiars through their magic seals, it was the same concept.

"If I may, I'd like to have your hand," he said without much thought.

Serafall froze as Allon stared at Shirou in peculiarity.

Moments later, a flush was beginning to work its way up Serafall's face as she stammered incoherently. Her serious expression then immediately shattered as she averted her eyes and hung her head down in serious contemplation. Even if she was worried for her friends, Shirou's question was directly related to her.

In the old High Devil Society, to ask for one's hand was akin to a marriage proposal. But surely, she was just over thinking things. Her eyes locked with Allon's for reassurance but the man only smiled enigmatically. As far as Allon was concerned, Shirou had already passed his test and was suitable as a suiter of the Sitri family. For all of Allon's enigma however, all he got to show for it was a stomp on the foot with a heel.

"May I have your hand?" Shirou repeated, brows furrowing as he wasn't sure why Serafall was hesitating when there were people to save.

Composing herself, Serafall reassured herself that this was just a misunderstanding on her part, and tentatively, she held out her dainty hand.

Shirou took it in his, and almost immediately got to work. There was a function in the magic seal of Marbas that authorized its branding on another to allow the other to use its functions. In this way, he planned for Serafall to first make her way to Kalinse Plains before activating the seal and summoning him along with the rest to battle.

He had briefly skimmed over the fact that there was some sort of tradition in the exchanging of magic seals between the families of the Seventy-Two pillars as it wasn't within the scope of Structural Analysis. However, how can Serafall and Allon not understand the old traditions of their founding ancestors?

"K-Kuro you!" Serafall pulled back her hand in shock as Allon laughed uproariously.

The exchange of magic seals was the greatest symbol of marriage between the Seventy-Two pillars. Each of the pillars magic seals were unique and could never be forged. Therefore, they were the very representation of a Noble family. The exchange itself would allow the individual to harness the power of both the family's magic crests. Thus, the exchange of seals was only strictly reserved for husband and wife, but the technique itself had long been thought to have been lost.

The magic seal of Marbas flashed over the back of Serafall's right hand as she stared at it in a stupor. She didn't know what to feel. In fact, she was angry that Kuro didn't wait for her consent, but a larger part of her was feeling inwardly pleased.

Yet, perhaps the most pleased with the situation was the butler who had been serving the Sitri family for generations.

"A banquet, a grand banquet, I must inform the lord and lady with post haste!" Allon said before excusing himself much to Shirou's inner confusion.

With Allon's departure, only Serafall and Shirou were left, and the two were caught in an awkward silence.

Serafall didn't want to speak as she was too overwhelmed with the situation, and as for Shirou, he would rather not speak if he didn't have to. However, some things still had to be spoken.

"When you need me, all you have to do is think of me, and I'll do the rest," he said, referring to the procedure that she would have to use to call upon him and the others he intended to bring to Kalinse Plains. "There are some additional sentences you must say beforehand, but the most important is still that you must think of me."

He didn't understand why Serafall was growing more and more demure as he spoke, but he assumed that it was because of the worry she felt for her friends.

"W-Who needs you," she muttered embarrassingly. "I'm plenty strong."

He rose a brow at her remark. Following Allon's previous reasoning of a single individual being unable to affect an army, why was she still denying his help? Furthermore, the Old Satan Faction was sure to have devils on equal standing with Serafall, making it impossible for her to change anything alone.

He sighed.

"Even if that's what you believe. I can't let you handle everything on your own."

Letting her do so was simply too dangerous. Her death could mean a catastrophe in the future.

Staring at her, he seemed to convey that it wasn't the time to be thinking about irrelevant matters, and the seriousness soon returned over Serafall's features. The fate of the underworld was on the line.

"This is what I have planned."

* * *

Sparks flew in the air, embers seeking the heat of a flame.

He brought down the hammer once again, the clang of metal against metal resounding in the forge he currently occupied.

When he had considered what it was that was in his power to do, he realized a single fact. He was at an ore mine. That fact, coupled with his knowledge pertaining to the thirty-six legions that followed the demon Marbas, lead him to a single decisive conclusion.

Serafall couldn't change anything on her own anymore. Moreover, even if she brought the roughly a hundred devils she had under her command to Kalinse Plains, it wouldn't do much to influence the state of the battle. Instead, it was more likely that her group would get swallowed up by the enemy's numbers.

From the letter Serafall had received, there were as many as a hundred-thousand devil on the Old Satan Faction side, and eighty-thousand remaining from the previous hundred-and-ten-thousand the New Satan Faction had had. Also detailed in the letter was the stark difference in the capabilities of the devils of both sides.

It was a miracle that the New Satan Faction could be able to hold out for a month, but this was precisely due to the efforts of Falbium Glasya-Labolas.

Serafall had been immediately distraught with the information and the knowledge that she could do nothing to help. However, unlike Serafall, he was thinking outside the box with the resources he had access to.

Perhaps, more than just a sword, he was more suited to being a blacksmith.

The hammer fell once again, molding the Devil Core into a particular shape.

Throughout the process of tracing the swords he had stored in his armory; the history and each individual forging process was made known to him. Ores that would generally be difficult to smith became child's play in his hands, and the same could be said for the Devil Cores after he had adjusted himself to their properties.

He hammered down again and again, crimson metal turning smooth as he heated it and then cooled it in a vat of water.

The design was in his head. He had to make sure that it was perfect.

The best way to deal with large armies wasn't through brute force, but through fear. Intimidation. When one retreated, the others would soon follow.

The number of combat-able devils under Serafall's control was too few in comparison to the enemies she would face. However, if he considered the number of low-class devils currently on the mountain, then Serafall had access to over half the number of devils in the Old Satan Faction's side. This was after she had sent men to raid the other logistics location Nirgul had provided with his map.

Of course, it would all be a sham should a battle fully break out as one High-Class devil could probably decimate thousands of Low-Class devils on its own. Therefore, he had to make everything perfect.

When dusk was approaching, he called for Serafall to gather all the low-class devils together. The success of the operation would be entirely dependant on them. His task was the completion of all the armours within two-weeks using his proficiency.

In the main halls within the mountain, several thousand low-class devils stood murmuring to themselves as he walked up to a set podium.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," he said curtly, his voice quieting down the entire area.

It was no secret between the low-class devils that many held great respect for him. An Ultimate-Class devil who treated low-class devils as equals. This respect had shifted to admiration after it was spread by word of mouth that their freedom had come from his efforts.

"The reason I have called you all here is to ask of you a request," he said as his gaze moved around the room.

"If it's within our power, then there's not even a need to ask!" A man from the crowd yelled.

Next to this man was Lucus Arthos who was just as eager. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to say that Marbas of house Marbas had become the idol of low-class devils. He was their hero.

"Then I'll meet your vigour with respect. Low-class devil or high-class devils, we're all the same. We are devils! And at this moment, I ask of you all to fight with me!"

He signalled with Serafall with his eyes, and she slowly brought over the armour and weapons he had been working on during the day.

Crimson steel riveted with interlocking pieces of cast metal enshrouded by a flowing red mantle that billowed from curved shoulder plates. Traces of magic suffused its surface, the magical potency of Devil Core running rampant and creating the image of flowing tendrils. Emblazoned on the back was the symbol of the Seventy-Two Demons, a crest of the underworld.

The room fell into silence.

Even if they were low-class devils, all understood what that symbol was. What it represented more than just the red armours of legend.

"T-That's," someone gasped for words.

In truth, even Serafall and the others had gasped upon seeing the armour Shirou had forged. Nirgul had been even more positive of his decision to defect from the Old Satan Faction after seeing it while Edith, Crawford and Tyne simply stood gaping.

"All of you will wear this armour, and I guarantee that I will protect you while you stand by me," Shirou said. "I'll only ask that you follow my lead."

He bowed his head low, touching even the floor much to everyone's shock. An Ultimate-Class devil bowing his head to low-class devils.

The sincerity in it.

It would be a lie to say that none present were moved.

Strong but humble.

The low-class devils swallowed their nervousness.

"We will follow you."

The voices were unanimous.

* * *

Serafall didn't know what to feel as she had rushed on her way to Kalinse Plains at Kuro's behest almost a week ago, but she knew that it didn't really matter anyway.

The plan that Kuro had devised was relatively simple. If she didn't have enough numbers to make a difference, then hoodwinking could work just as well. Even the art of war relied on deception, and if the enemy knew not of one's true ability then all the better.

It was just that even till now, she was in secret awe of Kuro. His integrity, and his beliefs, not once did he ever waver on them. He was truly unique as an heir of one of the Seventy-Two pillars like herself. He was perfect, a man she could depend on.

 _Her husband._

Her face blushed in embarrassment, nearly causing her to stagger and run into a tree. The act that Kuro had done previously, she still wasn't sure if his only intention was to get her to summon him and the rest like in his plan or if there was another motive. Perhaps, he liked her? The thought made her exceedingly joyous, but she had been too indecisive to clarify anything. Besides, Kuro as an Heir to his house must have had understood the customs. Old man Marbas would not have had neglected him on such a matter.

Therefore, had he truly proposed to her?

This time she did crash into a tree, twigs and pieces of bramble catching into her hair, but she hardly noticed it in her involuntary cussing.

"Damn it Kuro, why are you so hard to read," she complained.

Still, she clapped her hands over her cheeks.

Now wasn't the time for distractions.

From where she was, she could hear the sounds of battle in the distance. After travelling for more than a week, she was just arriving at the destination near the end of Falbium's allotted time frame of one month.

She put strength into her legs and shot forward. She had been the one to rush towards Kalinse Plains because she was the swiftest and Kuro would have to be present with the other devils to transport them.

Determination rising, she pushed passed the forestry and entered the boundary of Kalinse Plains.

The grass was soaked in blood, and numerous craters and holes lined the open field as the scent of iron wafted in the air. Her nose scrunched up as a result. She never liked the smell; for it only meant that trouble was brewing.

She took in a breath and paused in her advance a couple hundred meters away from where all the fighting was occurring in front of her. She knew that her movements had been spotted by both the Old and the New Satan Faction members fighting in the air. To go any closer would ruin Kuro's plans as attacking wasn't truly an option for them. Thus, it was best to stay out of range unless an opportunity arose.

From where she stood, she could see Falbium directing the devils under him. He was pointing and constantly shouting which was a far cry from the slouch she generally knew the man as. Sirzechs and the others were fighting near the front lines, preventing the Old Satan Faction from collapsing the formation Falbium had set up.

Yet from the looks of everything, Falbium and the others weren't going to be able to hold on for even a few more days. Falbium had promised a month, and it was nearing the end of the month. They were at their wit's end.

Serafall knew that she had to intervene now.

She only took one look at Kuro's magic seal at the back of her hand before she swallowed and set her resolve. For the sake of an underworld that all devils could be proud of, she would fight.

To win this current battle, one thing needed to change.

Morale needed to increase.

She could see it from the defeated expressions of the devils fighting in the distance.

Now was the time.

Her arm raised itself, magical power reaching the center of her palm and igniting into a torrent of flame.

"Serafall of House Sitri!" She drew attention to herself, her shout causing Falbium's and the others expressions to brighten.

Her voice carried in the wind, her lone figure standing in stark contrast to the two armies before her.

The trust she had in Kuro, the belief and conviction she had seen from his eyes, they told of the truth of his words. She believed in him.

The gamble was on.

"Heed thy call," Her eyes narrowed, the Sitri magic crest expanding rapidly. "Thou who art soaked in battle, and thou who judgeth the right from wrong, he who answers the truth of that which is hidden,"

"The Lion of the Underworld!"

Thrumming, the Sitri magic crest first glimmered before a secondary magic seal appeared overtop and expanded towards the sky. A magic of old. A transportation spell that had once moved the armies of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

The factions in the distance began to stir. What both sides of the factions had once taken as just a sole devil, growing infinitely larger in importance.

"He who ruled in the Seventy-Two districts, a President!" Her arm swung from her side, her words carrying power. Carrying weight. "One whose kind was famed even in the heavens, a _Demon_!"

Figures began to appear within the magic circle. Blurred, and indistinguishable, but they were enough for wide spread shock to stunt the movements of both factions. For at the edges of the magic circle were Seventy-Two figures far larger and more imposing than the many that were appearing at the center. And those figures, even without discernable features. They were familiar.

 _A resonance of blood and kin._

"Thou clad in the oaths of the cardinal sin, the Guardians of the Underworld! Lord Nobilities of the Seventy-Two Pillars and the armies that once stood at their behest!"

Thunder struck, tendrils of black lightning writhing from within the grey clouds that gathered up above. A dark omen, crows taking flight in the distance and cawing as the magical light of the seal erupted into pillars that stretched towards the sky. Those seventy-two figures were enveloped within them, their hands clapping together as they fueled the magic seal's power.

"Twice I ask thee, thrice I call thee!"

Her words resounded, a heavy thump shaking the very earth as a mass of steel appeared behind her.

"The River of Red and The Mantles of Glory,"

That which was only spoken of in legend and archived into the annals of history.

Swords were raised, spears pointed forward, and war horns sounding in the plains, the Crimson Legion appearing once more.

To give the hope that would turn everything around.

Crimson armour fastened itself over Serafall's body, her eyes closing as she uttered the final words to complete the magic seal; the crimson army that had fully appeared behind her raising an eternal banner.

Proud.

Lofty.

And Dignified.

"Praise be, The Legions of the Underworld!"

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious**


	24. The Sword and the Underworld: Part 9

Dead silence.

The kind that one would find only when out alone in the woods; the lingering sound of thunder still present in the clouds above illuminating the area in sudden flashes of intermittent bolts of lightning.

The Legions of the Underworld, lead only by the Demons of the Seventy-Two Pillars, elites capable of standing up to Heaven's armies before the fall of the Angels.

In a time where the Heavens were united, and the sole enemy was the underworld, they were the foundations of all Devils. The Guardians of purgatory. The true Kings and Queens of hell, later hailed within the Goetia as the Lesser Keys of Solomon.

"The banner that billows in the deepest inferno," Serafall's voice carried on in solemnity. "May it rise and bring forth a mighty sunder, releasing the flames of Gehenna that burns with our will. For it shall burn for an eternity."

A hand was raised, and with it, spears, swords, and flashes of magical light abounded.

"Swords that could cut apart mountains, armours that refused to shatter, and magic that could threaten the heavens!"

The tenacity of the army of the underworld recorded even in human script. The legions that composed a never-ending tide of the underworld's elite.

"Legends? Myth? History? Today it stands before you!"

Serafall took a breath, her gaze staring at the enemies before her.

They were shaken, it was clear from the way their faces paled and how their magic circles shattered mid-incantation. They were disturbed, unable to process the final steps required to manifest their magic.

The silence continued, and in that silence, Serafall keenly took notice of Sirzechs and the others.

They had been in the midst of fighting against the Old Satan Faction before her arrival, and now they just stood their dumbly, surrounded with other enemy devils who were too shocked to even take advantage of them.

Sirzechs mouth was opened wide, and his eyes seemed to be constantly trying to press her for answers in his incredulousness. It just didn't make sense to him; the image of the Serafall in his mind refusing to overlap with the one presently before him and wreathed in a regal crimson armour.

W-What exactly did she end up doing in the past few weeks?

A similar thought flashed across Grayfia's and Ajuka's minds, but unlike Sirzechs, the two were never very expressive. It was only the widening of their eyes and the break in their composure that signalled their astonishment.

Out of Sirzechs and the others however, Falbium was the only one whose mind was thinking properly, his eyes darting across the battlefield and observing. Lazy as Falbium may be, he was the only one to keep his composure as the lives of those before him relied on his instruction.

"Y-You lie!"

Falbium's eyes narrowed sharply at the shout of an Old Satan Faction member.

To be truthful, Falbium had to agree with the Old Satan Faction member. Whatever Serafall was planning it had to have had been a ruse. After all, not counting the sheer number of combatants that Serafall had brought, were her words truly authentic?

Eyes scanning over the weapons and armours before his sight, Falbium frowned as he couldn't distinguish them. More over, with the fluctuations of magical power suffusing the crimson armour's surface, it was impossible to determine the aura of the individual beneath. As such, he wasn't able to discern if they were weak or strong either. Based on history, each of the Legionaries were said to rival the strength of Lesser Demons; beings ranked lower than Demons but equivalent to the Underworld's Ultimate-Class Devils in modern standards. As such, for Serafall to gather so many of these 'elites,' it really was too much for Falbium to believe.

He was more inclined to speculate about alternatives.

Yet, it was because of this mentality that Falbium was left dumbfounded.

He swallowed as his mouth went dry, the sound, audible in the tension formed in the air; the frown that he had had over his face disappearing entirely as he felt a shortness of breath.

I-Impossible!

He blinked once then twice but didn't dare move his gaze away.

A charred husk plummeted to the ground, spasming with wisps of smoke floating into the air.

It was the devil who had spoken, the one to shout out against the proud flag billowing in the wind. The flag of the Seventy-Two Demons.

Imposing.

Unequaled.

"A lie?" A voice spoke out, clear yet callous.

There was a sort of dark undertone to it that spoke of an evil unable to be described. Chills travelled down Falbium's back, and the same could be said for many who were close enough to hear. It was only Serafall whose expression was different.

"Believe in what you will,"

Cold eyes stared outwards from an armoured visage, a sword fading away into the air and leaving behind threads of purple crackling arc light.

"The truth is found only in action. I alone will prove it to you."

A new sword appeared, two meters long, and it had a refinedness to it that reflected the elementary of its make. Just from looking at it, it was evident that no magical enhancement existed on it whatsoever. It was a simple blade, made of tempered steel and hammered away by precise strikes to reduce the blade's edge until it was paper thin. A formidable weapon against mortals, but considerably lacking when pitted against the foremost of the world's armaments.

Serafall's expression didn't change, but she was internally worried for Kuro's methods. She had seen this seemingly innate ability of his before. The power to create swords from nothing that were tinged with his unique energy. It was why she described this power as innate, for no one could replicate or reproduce the energies required.

More to the point, it was through observation that she was able to know that Kuro was capable of creating much stronger weapons, yet he had limited himself to something so mundane. Of course, she had a speculation for the reason why.

Her eyes subconsciously glanced to the back line that composed the majority of the Underworld's Legions and pursed her lips.

As intimidating as they appeared, she knew the truth about them, and because of this, their bravery was etched into her heart. But subsequently, _his_ form grew ever larger.

He who would match their bravery with humility, tenacity, and self abandon. The hero whose back appeared ever broader. A Holy man if she could relate anything to his level of selflessness which was utterly unconceivable for a resident of the Underworld. Yet perhaps, the Underworld was in need of change, and Kuro would be able to achieve it.

Just looking at him now, she felt like she understood. A mundane blade against anything the enemy could throw at him? It was clear to her that he was purposely widening the contrast between the levels of strength. If Kuro alone possessed the ability to defeat several dozen devils mid, or higher, then what would that mean the individual strength of the others would be?

She would be a fool not to understand such an intention. Therefore, she wished to aid him.

She waved for Sirzechs and the others to stand with her, the Devils of the New Satan Faction quickly following and creating two distinct forces. In this way, not only could Kuro fight, but Sirzechs and the rest who'd been fighting for weeks could gain some reprieve.

None of the Old Satan Faction members stopped them, their gazes locked wearily on the Crimson Legion the New Satan Faction members were flocking to.

It was one thing if everything was all a hoax, but if it proved to be true, then carelessness would only lead to death. Perhaps more than anything, the arrogance and dominance of a single armoured individual standing at the front was more than enough of a temporary deterrent.

Tall and valiant.

The number of opponents in front of him didn't even seem to matter. In fact, it was the sheer indifference in his eyes that led one to believe the credibility of his words. That he could truly live up to them.

One devil from the Old Satan Faction moved forward, lips curved into a sneer of self-confidence and contempt. It was a man whose appearance was uptight and formal, not a blemish or wrinkle to be found in the clothing he wore such that it could be described as immaculate. On the chaotic battlefield, the clean vestments of such a man could not only reflect his status and pedigree, but capability as well.

With this devil's approach, both sides watched attentively as if they had come to a common consensus.

On one hand, the New Satan Faction was hopeful, but on the other, the Old Satan Faction had bated breaths. If one asked which army in the underworld was the most feared, it could only be the reputation of the Red Tide of the unending Legions. Those who fought alongside the original Seventy-Two Demons. Given the choice, the Old Satan Faction would never want to face them. Not only would the fear in doing so affect them psychologically, but to them, it was also morally wrong.

The Legions of the underworld held unquestionable allegiance to the original Lucifer, the head of all underworld nobilities. As such, the actions of the Legions were indirectly seen as the will of their master. Considering who their master was, then if the Legion in front of the Old Satan faction was authentic, then wouldn't they, the Old Satan Faction, be wrong? That they had somehow neglected to understand a secret message left behind by the will of their leader?

It wasn't something the Old Satan faction was willing to accept.

"Preposterous, to dare stain the reputation of the legendary Legions as merely a guise," the devil that walked forward scoffed, loosening the cuffs of his long-sleeved attire. "I am Vestalf of house Leraje, and I will put an end to this folly."

Saying that, Vestalf produced a magic circle and reached a hand within, pulling out an ornate sword crackling with demonic energy before tossing it at Shirou's feet.

"Even if its fake, I will not allow one to stain the prestige of the Underworld's greatest army. Shatter that blade in your hand. It's clear that the New Satan Faction has already used up all of its resources on the armour that you and those others wear."

Shirou glanced at the sword at his feet, and then to the sword in his hands. The personality emulated from within the sword vibrated from within him.

The will of a swordsman must never be tarnished.

 _He who began from humble birth, and he who had learned the art of a sword style never before seen._

It had been slighted.

The will of a man who could even be considered a Saviour using only the sword in his hands.

A thrum travelled from the blade in Shirou's grasp and a desire resonated from within his very being, and he understood, for he himself was a sword. A world of swords. He would oblige.

The sword at his feet left forgotten, the two-meter long blade angled with his hands to a near horizontal position with his legs spread open, and hips lowered.

A secret art, one created from the devotion of a single individual.

 _Ganryu._

Shirou himself was never skilled with any weapon, but that itself had it own advantage. His ability to imitate the techniques of others was unquestionable.

"I need no other sword, and if you think that this weapon was the result of inadequate funds," Shirou's voice lowered sharply. "Then shall I break open that belief with brute force?"

For a moment, Vestalf was certain that he had seen the image of another man superimposed with Shirou. A man with purple hair tied into a long pony tail and wearing a traditional Japanese umanori hakama and kimono, expression livid yet calm, almost mocking.

Vestalf's anger peaked for he had never been faced with such an expression of ridicule.

"Presumptuous faker! To even dare neglect the good-will of an opponent," Vestalf powered magic into his magic seal, generating a force that began to distort a segment of the air.

The Leraje family was a nobility of the Underworld known to cause great battles and disputes, yet always remaining dignified in doing so. They had completely taken after their progenitor and even went to the extent of specializing solely on ranged attacks. In which case, they were the undisputed best.

Most in the Leraje family were divided into attack classes, ranged magic users, and magic bowmen. In Vestalf's case, he was a leading figure in ranged magic.

Space distorted as a massive and writhing ball of pure magical power coalesced in front of Vestalf. A mix of rampant energies that were entirely volatile but suppressed by Vestalf's vast magical strength.

At the sight of it, many of the New Satan Faction members recoiled in fear, for it was these very shots of magical power that had been constantly pelting them during the course of the war. It was something that exploded on contact and caused immense damage. As a ranged fighter, Vestalf was responsible for a large portion of injured or dead on the New Satan faction's side. After all, protected by the other Old Satan Faction members, Vestalf could continuously fire which caused Falbium a great deal of head pain as he had to prevent Srizechs from charging in on numerous occasions. They were clearly baiting him.

With its re-emergence, different from the New Satan faction members, Shirou didn't even seem to react.

Instead, a gleam appeared over his blade.

"Perish," Vestalf said dismissively, sending his attack forward.

Upon launch, the vibration sent dirt and dust flying as it broke the sound barrier.

This was the deciding factor. Vestalf wasn't a Super-Class Devil, but he was still an Ultimate-Class Devil. Therefore, his strength could be used to judge this legionary from the Crimson Legion.

In the face of the incoming attack, a mundane blade sung its tune.

A gentle swish, comparable to the tearing of paper more pronounced with the explosion that followed soon after.

"Y-You cut it?" Vestalf spoke in bafflement, his mind suddenly filled with unease.

It had been too easy, a simple cut that diverted the explosive and concussive strength of his magic into two halves that dug crevices into the ground. Yet to do so with just a mundane blade? It could only mean that the opponent was striking precisely at the weakest points in his magic. But Vestalf refused to believe it, for the fear growing within him would overwhelm him.

He fired.

Again, and again.

Yet step by step, that ominous blade crept closer, the expressions of the Old Satan Faction growing ever grim.

Vestalf's nerves frayed as the blade's two-meter image shifted into a blur.

I-It wasn't even a magic blade, so how?!

The man swallowed, staggering backwards on his trembling feet. He felt it far better than any of his compatriots behind him even as he desperately backed away to gain ground to prevent a close confrontation. The precariousness, a lethal edge.

Shirou's hands moved on their own, following the path of the skill reflected by a heroic spirit who had no true name. A farmer boy, a child who had lived within a rural mountain village.

 _The petals that dance in the breeze._

Magical energy flooded his body, propelling him forward in a sudden burst of speed far faster than Vestalf who was caught off guard.

 _The finesse of a finite movement honed through numerous repetition._

The blade fell, cutting air and leaving behind only a trail of silver light that split into three before Vestalf's eyes.

 _It was the sword of a stranger._

 _The sword of an ordinary man who simply had too much time on his hands._

Tsubame Gaeshi.

* * *

It had ended in an instant. The outcome had already been decided from the moment Shirou drew in close. To begin with, the Leraje family had no ability whatsoever in close combat. However, the Old Satan Faction still held hope that the mundane blade in Shirou's hands wouldn't have had been able to do anything.

Reality was cruel.

Mundane as it was, it had somehow cut apart Vestalf with an attack that struck from three directions simultaneously.

Vestalf fell, the magical reserves and destructive ability that qualified him as an Ultimate-Class Devil seemingly meaningless in the face of the single Legionary of the Crimson Legion.

It had been too effortless, something achieved in a single motion of taking up the blade and swinging it.

It was even completed with a mundane sword.

Swallowing, the members of the Old Satan Faction stared at the weapons of the others from the Crimson Legion and felt a stifling anxiety. When compared to the mundane blade in Shirou's hands, those weapons were as good as legendary treasures. Their craftsmanship was without question, and the power coming from them filled the air with potent magic.

In this moment of apprehension and shock, a voice began the recommencement of the battle of Kalinse plains.

"Attack!" Falbium ordered.

With the momentum of the Old Satan Faction suppressed and the blow to their state of mind, Falbium would be a fool not to utilize the opportunity.

Under his command the thousands of New Satan Faction members that had reorganized next to the Crimson Legion charged forth with vigour. Unlike the Old Satan Faction, the New Satan Faction was filled to the brim with confidence. It was only natural when they considered who their backing would be. Serafall's arrival was the turning point to this bitter battle.

They attacked in bursts, smashing into the Old Satan Faction's lines like waves on a rocky shore. Burst of magical energy lit up the air, and war cries quickly followed.

Amidst the chaos, Serafall and the others weren't lagging behind.

She charged in, a cold aura of ice freezing the area around her in layers of permafrost. At her back were Edith, Crawford, and Tyne who attacked with zeal. Of course, they had initially been against the idea of betraying their families and the Old Satan Faction, but that mentality changed the moment they had bathed in the glory of the Crimson Legion. The armours they wore, the prestige it granted them, it would be a lie to say that they hadn't been moved. Especially with Nirgul's constant praise towards Shirou.

They launched magical attacks without thought; Crawford and Tyne diving straight into a crowd of Old Satan members and physically tearing them apart with the enhancements of their armours and weapons. Edith on the other hand targeted the Old Satan Faction members that were trying to regain order. It was a euphoric sort of feeling, and their actions could be taken as battle credit.

Following behind Crawford and Tyne were the other High-Class devils Serafall had brought that were wearing the same armours. Of the individuals that composed the Legion that Serafall had brought, it was only the front line that had moved, the other low-class devils merely stood on guard. However, even if they weren't actively contributing, their presence alone caused much grief.

In war, it was standard for the frontline or the vanguard to be composed of a unit of some elite, but the majority as fodder. The fodder in most cases were foot soldiers sent to weaken the enemy to pave the path for the main army. The fact that Shirou, served as the vanguard gave the false impression that he was not the strongest, but the weakest foot solider of the Crimson Legion. This image was even more pronounced with the fact that Shirou was only equipped with a regular mortal sword. The low-class devils nervously standing at attention behind their armours on the other hand, were in stark contrast.

It was a phycological ploy that willingly prevented any attack towards the low-class devils who were merely nothing more than prop-ups. At the same time, they prevented the morale of the New Satan Faction from ever dropping as should Serafall and the others perish, the 'true' army of the Crimson Legion would take action.

"Falbium!" Sirzechs called eagerly.

Falbium nodded in response, and in that moment, a tower of destructive energy surrounded Sirzechs before he barrelled straight into the densest area on the Old Satan Faction's side.

It was finally time for Sirzechs to unleash his power. For too long Ajuka, Falbium, and Grayfia had been advising him of an enemy trap, but with the disorganization on the Old Satan Faction's side caused by Serafall's arrival, the likeliness for a trap was almost non-existent.

Sirzechs Gremory, a Super Devil of the New Satan Faction finally took to battle.

Large swaths of land suddenly disappeared, craters forming where before it was a simple flat land. The Old Satan Faction was being annihilated from a combination of a lack of morale and indecision caused by fighting against a representation of the original Lucifer's will.

Ajuka sighed, seeing Sirzechs' recklessness, but it was then that Ajuka's famed Kankura formula manifested. After all, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't cover Sirzechs' back?

Taking to battle, Grafiya followed behind after Ajuka after taking one last glance at Euclid Lucifuge. Her brother had been left at a loss ever since the Crimson Legion appeared, and looking at him, there was a mad and questioning light in his eyes. Still, looking at Sirzechs fighting in the distance, she went to aid him.

Euclid Lucifuge, having been left behind wallowed in self thought. There was only a single question that constantly surfaced in his mind. Had Grayfia known about some hidden order given by the original Lucifer? Was that the reason for her defection? Otherwise, how could someone he so idolized betray him without a second thought? She was his blood, and they should have had both been loyal to Lucifer. Yet looking at the situation now, who was the one truly loyal to Lucifer.

His eyes stared hollowly in front of him. Only the front line of the Crimson Legion joined in on the battle, and even then, their influence destroyed row after row of defensives hastily created. The Legions of the chaotic times. He had once dreamed of them, trying to imagine the grandeur they must have had felt serving their master.

Yet now they faced him. Was he truly in the wrong?

Lost in his indecision, Euclid could do nothing but remain where he was as any leadership the Old Satan Faction had began to crumble along with the beliefs of their leaders.

The battlefield became chaotic, loud shouts and clashing weapons resounding on the flat plains.

In this chaos, Shirou was acting as effectively as he could. He attacked and slew numerous devils that he was able to determine were leaders and was making his way along the battlefield to aid the New Satan Faction members that were struggling or injured.

With the way things were right now, it was impossible for the Old Satan Faction to turn things back around in their favour. However, he wasn't quick to assume such a notion as his eyes narrowed on the presence he had been feeling spying at the edge of the battlefield.

It was someone with exceedingly powerful fluctuations in their aura, making it likely that this individual was on a similar level of power to Sirzechs who was unleashing his ability in full display. This was why Shirou was being cautious. Someone on a similar level as Sirzechs may possess the means to turn the situation around.

Yet, because Shirou was paying too much attention on this third party, he wasn't able to predict the actions of the members of the Old Satan Faction who were on the verge of being pushed to their deaths.

If they were to die, then they would rather die with full honours.

They charged towards the supposed 'main army' of the Crimson Legion causing Shirou's eyes to widen in alarm. Even Serafall had let out an involuntary shout amidst her actions of freezing an enemy to death.

There were around several hundred of them that charged forth. Their numbers weren't big when compared to the tens of thousands that the Old Satan Faction was originally composed of, but their numbers were still large enough to catch attention. For they were at least the size of a small battalion.

Lucas Arthos who stood within one of the crimson armours swallowed audibly, but his body remained firm and unmoving. He remembered the words that Shirou had said, and even though he was hesitant, he followed through with them.

He raised the weapons in his hands and aimed it towards the oncoming battalion. He was the first to take such an action from the low-class devils, but everyone else followed soon after. They believed in the devil that had shown them humility at the face of their own weakness. They chose to place their trust and loyalty in him.

Sparks began to emit from the tips of the weapons, and in that moment the pale purple shine of Devil Core suffused its surface. Those weapons weren't just ordinary weapons, they were hand forged by Shirou using the very techniques that created weapons of legend, Noble Phantasms. Of course, they weren't on a similar level, but just the fact that the method of forging was so similar produced a formability that couldn't be ignored.

A cacophony of light, fire, magic, and projectiles fired from those pointed blades and assaulted the incoming battalion before they could even get close.

They all died in a moment's time.

Compared to Shirou's performance at the beginning, it had seemed too casual. Shirou for his part actually seemed to exert effort as he chased after Vestalf to clinch victory which when compared to Lucas and the rest paled in comparison. They merely raised their weapons and unleashed their properties, destroying all.

The sight and smell of burnt ashes permeated all around, and the morale on the Old Satan Faction's side plummeted even further, many already beginning to retreat.

And soon,

"R-Retreat!"

The official retreat order was given. They ran in all direction, trying their best to escape, yet even then, a few remained stubborn and unable to accept the situation for what it was.

"T-This, how?!" A devil shouted in dismay at Serafall who had just finished destroying the last of the Old Satan Faction's defensive lines. "You are a Devil, a being at the same league as everyone present. How could you possibly command them!?"

The devil was referring to the Crimson Legion. For even if Serafall had intervened, it was the impact of the Legion alone that had turned the tides.

It was truly unfair. The devil that had spoken couldn't understand it. The Legions of the Underworld, should they not have had been on the same side as the Old Satan Faction who fought for Lucifer's ambitions? Instead, here they had appeared at the behest of a leader of the New Satan Faction.

The devil's breathing grew ragged as incomprehension clouded her mind much like Euclid Lucifuge whose inner turmoil was present on his face. First it was his sister Grayfia that had betrayed him, and now the Legions that could be said to represent the underworld and the original Lucifer were directly against him. Nothing made any sense any more.

"You don't have the right!" The devil's voice, was filled with an unwillingness that echoed out in the chaos loud enough that even those fleeing could hear it.

And a concise voice answered in response, soft-spoken yet filled with a sentiment that reflected her inner thoughts.

"You're correct that I have no right to command them, but," a finger pointed leisurely at a single individual. " _He_ does."

All eyes turned, and unexpectedly, that finger was pointed at the very Legionary that had astounded many. The one that had stood out at the very beginning. Yet, none would believe it. After all, the Legionary was still as he was before, nothing but a mundane two-meter long blade in his hands which he used to cut down devil after devil.

Although his swordsmanship and natural power were astonishing, there was nothing from his image to his aura that disclosed anything different when compared to his compatriots. In fact, Serafall looked far more intimidating with the layers of frost and snow that permeated and expanded around her. Coupled with the feats she had accomplished in the previous confrontation between the factions, many were already weary of her, and this was before including the menacing aura of the armour she currently wore.

It was different from the rest, more sleek and refined. Compact would be a better term for it. If the regular crimson armours worn could be attributed with loose protective wear, then Serafall's was form fitting with complex designs etched into the armour of a time long forgotten.

"You think anyone would believe that?" The devil said in spite.

However, in the next moment, the devil's mouth closed as a suffocating pressure descended on the area; a heaviness suffusing the air and seemingly distorting it through sheer power.

Serafall smiled bewitchingly, a type of allure born from the satisfaction of pride lighting up her face, but at the same time a deep worry welling up from within her. She wasn't sure of the scope of Kuro's power, but he always seemed to have some sort of ill set back when using it. Yet Kuro would still use it anyway.

The man who was one of a kind.

Serafall took a breath, her eyes unblinking as she stared at the devils on the side of the Old Satan Faction.

"You were correct to say that I have no right to command the Legions of the Underworld," she began slowly, her voice capturing Euclid's full attention. "Only the original Lucifer had that right, but along with Lucifer were the pillars, the Guardian Nobilities of the Underworld."

The lesser Keys of the Ars Goetia.

Serafall's eyes turned fierce, her tone dropping as she spoke.

" _And they too controlled their own Legions_."

Bael, King of Hell, and owner of sixty-six legions.

Paimon, the devote and most loyal to Lucifer, owner of over two-hundred.

Silence followed, before all gazes shifted towards the source of the suffocating pressure.

The two-meter long blade had vanished, and in its place erupted a torrent of malefic energy unlike anything any devil could ever produce. It was vile, like a black pith that arose from the darkened ashes of countless atrocities. Completely chaotic. There was no order in it, simply unadulterated power stuffed full into the body of just a single being who bore the evils of the world.

To the devils present however, that kind of aura had a different meaning.

Something similar to those mighty individuals that had once existed in a tumultuous time.

This realization sunk in like paper to water, gradual yet undeniable, leaving an unsightly wet stain.

"T-This," words were no longer necessary to understand, but the disbelief was still apparent in the same way it had when the Crimson Legion first manifested. "Impossible!"

Panic.

Confusion.

And self-doubt.

Many thoughts and realizations were running rampant across the minds of all devils. Sirzechs and the others were no exception as their gazes naturally turned towards Serafall who was already opening her mouth to continue.

"If you truly believe it's impossible, then what is it that your eyes tell you?" She said.

The devils of the Old Satan Faction that were nearby and those further away and using sound transmission to listen-in were rendered mute; their gazes subconsciously locking on to the manifesting shadow created from the intensity of the aura Kuro was releasing.

A robust Lion wreathed in the marks of the twin keys.

A symbol of one of the Nobilities of the Seventy-Two.

The overseer of secrets, a President of Hell.

Many in both the Old and New Satan Faction swallowed, realizing just what exactly that symbol was. Ajuka more so than any other devil as he was the one who had once proposed for Serafall to seek aid from that particular territory.

"What does the boiling of your blood mean?"

Sona's voice continued unhindered. It alone being the only sound that echoed in the area as the suffocating pressure continued to descend.

"Surely you feel it too?" She paused, her expression softening as she stared at Kuro. "The calling, the impulse. That which your heritage compels you to acknowledge."

"He with the right to command the Legions," she pointed at Kuro whose form had altered.

The deep crimson of his armour replaced by a chilling black, tinges of red adorned on the far reaches of his vestments billowing in the wind produced by his own energy. Twin claws were carved on to the chest plate, the back etched with a crest of twin keys that stretched down the entirety of the mantle that hung over one shoulder.

Most of all, it was his towering presence that now forced weaker willed devils to bow.

An act of submission.

Something reserved solely for the acknowledgment of a higher being.

If it was only an inkling before, now she was certain as she gained confidence from her words.

"He is Marbas of house Marbas," she said candidly.

"Last Demon of the Underworld."

* * *

 **Thanks for Reading, and thanks to my newest patrons: Dylan A, and Andrew K!**

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 **Note: I'm currently going to be out of country for the next three weeks on a co-op activity so update times will probably be adjusted soon after jet lag finishes setting. It's actually pretty different here, but at least the work is nice and it will be an experience I will be remembering for a long time.**


	25. The Sword and the Underworld: Part 10

The battle of Kalinse Plains was the turning point in the civil war of the Underworld. With the emergence of the Crimson Legion, the tide of the battle had favoured the New Satan Faction by a large margin.

Fires danced across the lands on that day, large billowing pyres that stretched towards the purple sky, flickering as the acrid smell of burnt flesh and ash wafted through the air. From the fire, came the explosions, charged masses of magical energy shot forth from seals and weapons alike that wrought ruin to the plains.

To call Kalinse Plains a plain any longer would be a far cry. It was almost reminiscent of a chasm with rough grooves carved into the rock and soil turned black from the soot that fell like rain.

Bodies were left strewn along the area like spilled grain, some mangled with bits and pieces of flesh showing from the sinew of their bones, pecked away at a murder of crows. Others were even less fortunate with only limbs and pieces left after being struck with stray arcs of magical might.

It had been a battlefield, and not a place of mourning, yet even those in the New Satan Faction couldn't help but grow solemn. The Old Satan Faction's chain of command was lost, and those that remained had been decimated without much effort. Of course, it shouldn't have had been so one-sided, but the Old Satan Faction members couldn't garner the will to reform even just a small resistance.

How could they at the face of the Legion still standing strong behind the New Satan Faction?

They ran without much thought, the disorganization of it causing even more problems. Devils on the ground that fell were trampled beneath rushed footsteps, the breaking of bones constantly echoing amidst the shouts. Those that flew were met with a similar fate. Thousands of Old Satan Faction Devils had taken to the skies where they were targeted by large scale magics and met with the New Satan Faction's two Super Devils.

Sirzechs and Ajuka hadn't been able to afford a compromise. They had known that if they had left their enemies to escape in large numbers then there was no guarantee that aggressions would cease. Given the choice, they would rather not have had killed so many devils, but for the sake of their families and comrades, they had steeled their emotions. It was something that was part of being a leader. To be able to make a decision and see it through till the end for a greater good.

And it was something that she'd never forget. For she would never forgive them for it, what they had done. But that was a story for another time.

Instead, perhaps the most meaningful event in Kalinse Plains was Kuro. Marbas if she was being technical, he whose influence had grown enough to potentially start another War Between the Factions.

The Demon among Devils, a true Nobility of the Underworld whose existence tied into the tumultuous times of Heaven vs Hell.

Demons were representations of sheer power and authority. What Kuro displayed, it was a strength near identical to the malefic and wrathful energies described to be possessed by demons. For a demon's power was tied into the root of evil. Actions birthed from hate, jealously, and envy, that gave rise to a demon's reserves. What Kuro had, it seemed to be something that possessed an absurd amount of Evil, as if all of the World's Evil was centered solely on him. It was frightening to others, but for the residents of the Underworld, it meant something far more.

Demons had never relied on contracts with humans to garner anything. What they wanted, they would attain through strength alone. Natural leaders, progenitors of devil kind recorded in the Ars Goetia. The stronger the Demon, the greater influence its Evil and energies would have on the surroundings.

It was why Belial, Lord of Cinder and Flame literally turned the world into a burning apocalypse with his steps, bringing wrought and ruin with every breath.

Kuro's effect on the world around him was substantially different. It was like she could feel lurking shadows tainted with what humans would call curses crawling over her skin, the slightest contact producing unimaginable results.

A Domain of influence on the world.

It was the proof of being a Demon.

As such, no one questioned Kuro's identity as the Last Demon of the Underworld.

Instead, he would become famous as more and more Devils learned of him. His kind nature, his modesty, and humility, the qualities that she would always remember him for forever reflected in the hearts of the Devils who followed him.

He had been popular, loved.

His indifference doing nothing to deter the loyalty of those that fought by him to increase day after day.

It was to the point that it had been a certainty that he would become the sole ruler of the Underworld as the Last Demon. A worthy protector and leader who didn't indulge in pride and self dignity.

The Devils were reverent, willing to follow him anywhere and willing to fight for him without question. She had been the same, and she had been proud of his growing reputation, his acknowledgments and fame. Her enthusiasm was almost as if it was her getting praised instead.

Yet perhaps it was these events that had become her greatest regret.

 _Man fear not what they know, but that which they do not._

-Serafall Leviathan.

* * *

"They've retreated," Falbium said tiredly as if all of the exhaustion of the past month suddenly overtook him.

Falbium was never the active sort, preferring to sleep for most of the day or laze around in comfort. The war had pushed him past his general limits and it showed in his appearance. His clothing was torn in numerous places and his expression was bedraggled. There was even a hunch in his back as he walked with his shoulders too far drooped to be healthy. Granted, just the bags beneath his eyes and pale complexion were enough for one to understand his current condition. Falbium panted while he addressed Ajuka who was the nearest to him.

Ajuka nodded, watching the few devils that he and Sirzechs had allowed to get away into the distance. They numbered no more than a couple hundred which was quite few when considering the several thousands that they had once been. An act of mercy it may seem to Grayfia and the others, but it wasn't. For it was something that was necessary.

The events that had occurred in Kalinse Plains were revolutionary and keeping it under wraps by eliminating everyone was counterproductive to ending the Civil War.

Ajuka's eyes gleamed for a moment as he sent an appraising look towards Marbas of house Marbas. The individual that Serafall had claimed to be the Last Demon of the Underworld. Even now, the pressure that Marbas had released had him, a Super-Class Devil to feel unnerved.

"Interesting," he spoke softly, his tone loud enough to be heard by the others paying keen attention on him.

"Do you mean that as a bad thing?" Grayfia asked uncertainly, a frown playing on her lips. "If he is truly as Serafall says, then he has a right to lead the underworld as a being similar to our ancestors."

"He is a Pillar, a Demon representing the house of Marbas of the Seventy-Two Pillars. With the fall of our previous leaders, he who is a Demon has the highest right to lead us in their absence," Falbium nodded in agreement while voicing the views of the majority of devils who all followed a strict hierarchy.

This hierarchy was the reason that no devil ever rebelled against the orders of the Original Lucifer and the Four Great Satans. They were beings that deserved the loyalty and respect of the devils that followed them. For it was through them that the underworld had once prospered before the Great War. Naturally, Demons were of the same category as the original Seventy-Two Demons gave life to all devil kind and noble classes.

Falbium grunted hopefully, the movement of his chest tearing another hole in his already tattered attire. He frowned, but felt it was too troublesome to complain and simply continued to convey his thoughts.

"From a war prospective, having him on our side would give us a just cause, making it easier to rally more devils under us to finally put an end to this war," he said tactfully with a lip raised before huffing. "Admittedly, he has a certain charisma about him that even I was swayed by. Just thinking about how many devils would join our cause has my mind going numb. The numbers would surely quadruple, if not more, and that's just me being pessimistic. The outcome of this war is therefore already decided."

"Then isn't this a joyous occasion?" Sirzech said with mirth, a gleeful smile on his face that was reflecting his current jubilance. "Serafall's really done it this time."

"And I always thought that she was too much of a goof when she wasn't being serious," Falbium said wryly. "I guess now I can't use that against her in arguments."

"Speak for yourself Falbium, you're no better than Serafall in your laziness," Sirzechs countered good naturedly, a hand patting Falbium's shoulder.

Everyone was laughing and seemingly carefree as all the stress of the war just suddenly lifted off from their shoulders. It was only natural for them to act this way. It was only Ajuka and Grayfia who shared a look with each other that caused everyone else to pause in their merry making.

"Grayfia? Ajuka?" Sirzechs asked puzzled.

Grayfia hesitated for a moment before wetting her lips and stating her worries.

"Sirzechs, did you ever consider what it was that we were fighting for?" She began tentatively.

"To end hostilities with Heaven and the Fallen, and to subsequently put an end still to this Great War that will only bring us all to ruin," Sirzechs said in confusion. "What else is there to think about?"

Ajuka cleared his throat. "To be fair Grayfia, I believe it's better to be more direct when dealing with Sirzechs. I'm sure Falbium understand what you were trying to insinuate already but you know as well as I that Sirzechs can be simple minded. He'll need time to grow more wisdom if he is to ever lead."

Sirzechs brow twitched. "I'm not a fool Ajuka. I'm just not a genius with high intellect to create an entirely new magic formula. What are you trying to get at here?"

"Marbas, the Last Demon of the Underworld," Ajuka said plainly. "He is on our side right now, but after the war it's almost a certainty that he alone will attain the highest position of power with how all devils revere their ancestor Demons. Have you ever considered what would happen if Marbas chooses to continue the Great War?"

Sirzechs stilled, expression turning as grim as Falbium's had after Grayfia had spoken.

"We will fight against it," Sirzechs said without pause.

"Then it would be us against a _united_ Underworld. You know as well as I that this Civil War only occurred due to the absence of a legitimate ruler of hell," Ajuka said bluntly. "We will lose. There will be nothing that could be done, and more than likely it won't be just Marbas we will face."

Ajuka's gaze shifted towards the Crimson Legion fading away as they were transported back from whence they came via the magic crest of Sitri and Marbas. Only two individuals were left behind, and Ajuka's gaze was on the both of them.

"You mean Serafall," Sirzechs said in disbelief. "She wouldn't do that," he argued. "You know her reasons for fighting in this Civil War."

"And I knew Grayfia's too," Ajuka replied calmly, ignoring the way Grayfia seemed to flinch. It wasn't the time to worry about relations at the moment, he had to get a point across. "The thing is Sirzechs, nothing is ever certain, and this hypothetical outcome I've described is also part of that. Marbas could very well be a wise and powerful ruler of the Underworld, but that will still depend on his personality."

Sirzechs remained quiet as Falbium furrowed his brows before shaking his head.

"In any case," Falbium began as he addressed everyone. "We will all just have to wait and see about the type of man this Marbas is. And if anything, everything will begin from a talk, isn't that right Serafall?"

"Huh?" Serafall let out a confused breath.

She had just arrived next to Sirzechs and the others after asking Kuro to wait in one of the tents she speculated was being used as a command post. She had been worried for Kuro and wanted him to rest a bit before meeting with anyone, therefore, she had come to greet everyone by herself.

"What are you all talking about to look so serious?" She inquired, head tilted to the side.

"No, nothing of real importance," Asjuka was the first one to respond, giving Serafall a gentle nod.

"Oh, okay then," Serafall said before beaming. "This war's going to end!" She then said excitedly, giving a similar reaction as Sirzechs a few moments ago.

She seemed to be an entirely different person from the woman who had been coldly slaughtering her enemies. In fact, she was rather bubbly and cheerful in what Falbium would later describe as annoying in the future when she would pester him to become 'devil black.'

"Yeah," Sirzechs said putting on a smile. "The war's going to end for certain, therefore, there's not much need to talk about that. Instead," Sirzechs's gaze grew curious. "What exactly happened, Serafall?" He asked. "I mean, the last time we met, you had only gone on a simple task by Ajuka as you said. And now you return to us like this?"

Serafall was left at a loss for a moment at just how exactly she would answer, her gaze inadvertently landing on the back of her hand. Her face flushed as a result, and any notions of starting from the beginning left her mind as something far, _far_ more important occupied it.

Serafall was a woman, and perhaps there was only one thing in a woman's life that she would hold as her greatest moment regardless of any achievement.

"W-Well," she stuttered, ears going red and legs fidgeting.

She was acting shy, almost embarrassed, a hand scratching at the back of her head as she tried to find the right words to convey. Eventually, her mind settled on one action that spoke louder than any words. She raised her hand, which until now, neither Sirzechs or anyone had been paying attention to and infused her magical energy. There on the back of her hand was a familiar and distinct Magic Crest that gleamed with a dull red. The markings seemed to interact with the Sitri Magic Crest and tangled until they were entirely intertwined.

The crest of House Marbas.

And the Crest of House Sitri.

Bound together and inseparable.

Holding a meaning that was recorded fully in the scripts of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

"I-I think I got married?"

Serafall mumbled lowly, sounding more like a question than a statement in the dumbfounded silence that followed soon afterwards.

* * *

When Serafall brought Sirzechs and the others into the room Shirou was resting at, it was with uncertainty that Shirou decided not to ask why Serafall was avoiding his gaze.

More to the point, she was avoiding everyone's gaze as if the slightest eye contact would cause her to flee. She was even walking a full meter away from the nearest person which was Grayfia, her head lowered in what appeared to be mortification.

Serafall couldn't help it however. After blurting out something irrelevant, and more on a personal level she had immediately began to regret it. Her hands balled into fists as the memory of Falbium laughing at her face and his snide remarks reverberated in her mind. She was even more peeved and embarrassed when _both_ Sirzechs, and Ajuka had placed a hand on her shoulders and ardently expressed their opinion for her to get Kuro 'whipped' as soon as possible.

She had been infuriated and flustered knowing exactly what the two were insinuating and had even glanced at Grayfai to give Sirzechs a harsh scolding for his actions only to be left dazed when Grayfia seriously nodded her head.

Falbium's laughter had echoed out even louder, Grayfia's calm voice resounding.

"The fate of the Underworld is in your hands," she had said much to Serafall's confusion and abject bewilderment.

Thereafter, they pressed her relentlessly for answers about her entire journey, not giving her enough time to think before speaking. As such, the end result ended up with her utterly exhausted and feeling betrayed. She had gone to such lengths to save her friends only for them to subject this to her.

Her mouth thinned, but she still refused to meet anyone's gaze especially Kuro's as she was feeling too self-conscious and like all her secrets were out in the open.

After entering the room Kuro was in, she had isolated herself in the corner and made herself look small, hoping that she would be forgotten.

As Shirou's gaze moved from Serafall to Sirzechs, he couldn't help but recall the image of this man that he had seen in the future. Unlike his future self, Sirzechs still appeared to be more childish, lacking the regal bearings that had been present in each of his action as he had calmly dealt with Heaven and the Fallen's representatives.

"A pleasure to meet you,"

Ajuka was the first to break the silence of the room, his gaze staring at the indifference on Shirou's face and scrutinizing it. Based on first impressions, Shirou seemed cold and indifferent, which wasn't really a bad thing or a good thing either. It could simply mean anything, and Ajuka was actually somewhat impressed. It was the duty of a leader to represent the views of it followers, and by not revealing anything, the leader wouldn't show any weakness. For a leader too reflected the status of its citizens, or at least made it ambiguous in a negotiation. Again, neither good, nor bad.

Shirou glanced at Ajuka's offered hand and clasped it in his own.

"Marbas," he greeted simply.

Looking at how Ajuka had spoken first, he was a tad surprised as Sirzechs had always been the one to initiate the conversations with Michael in the future. His initiative had always revealed his eagerness to make friends with those before him. This was similar to the peace talks of the present era.

Indeed, just as he thought this, Sirzechs came up to greet him, the man introducing himself as the next head of the Gremory family. Grayfia was the next to follow suit and she looked just as she did in the future. Almost exactly the same. Other than attire, there was basically no difference in her natural beauty making it seem as if she hadn't aged a single day. Thinking about all the female Devils he knew, perhaps it had something to do with their physiology? Meaningless thoughts aside, they were all just beautiful.

After Grayfia, came a man that he had never met before. He was Falbium Glasya-Labolas, the fourth Great Satan in the future, and admittedly Shirou had never heard much of him.

This was a result of Falbium's own doing; spending most of his days sleeping or lazing about, and not bothering with anything related to his position of power unless necessary. He was the definition of the word recluse.

The five of them, six if you counted Serafall who was still in the corner, sat upon a table laid out with red-velvet cushioned chairs.

In the silence that followed, it became clear to Shirou that he was the center of attention. Ajuka was directly staring at him along with Grayfia whose expression was unnaturally calm. Sirzechs was being more discrete with sideward glances, and Falbium just idly stared at him from his slouched position with his head rested atop his arms.

Shirou cleared his throat. "What are the odds of winning this war?"

He asked his main topic of concern. One of the reasons he was participating in the civil war of the Underworld was so that he wouldn't change future events to too much of a large degree. To know for certain that the war would be finished was like lifting a weight off of his shoulders, leaving him with only one task left to do. His sole reason for returning to this time period.

Falbium glanced at Grayfia with his eyes, and the two came to an agreement.

"We guaranteed to win the war as it is now," Falbium drawled. "If what Serafall said was true, then not only did we win this battle of Kalinse Plains, but I doubt the Old Satan Faction would ever be able to gather as many devils as they had today. Partly because of a lack of logistic supply due to yours and Serafall's efforts, but the majority because of you alone."

"Me?"

Despite Shirou's relatively unmoving expression, it wasn't hard for Ajuka and Sirzechs to detect the genuine surprise in Shirou's tone. It wasn't commanding, nor was it forceful, but rather, it reminded them of a carefree sort of individual. Kind of like themselves before the war had started in full.

A small smile played on Sirzechs face before he nodded at Ajuka to explain.

Ajuka sighed but relented with a wryness on his face before explaining his conjectures.

Shirou nodded over the course of the explanation, but neither Grayfia or Ajuka could read his thoughts at a glance. In fact, it became even harder to read him. It wasn't because he was making it difficult for them or that he was being guarded, it was just because of his own growing unease that his face was gradually growing too stiff to reveal anything.

Him, the next ruler of the Underworld?

It was a concept he had no plans of undergoing.

"Wait, wait stop," he said, a hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose as he thought to himself. Eventually he decided to just be truthful and attempt to alleviate himself from his current position. "I was never meant to exist here let alone to be in such a position of power," he said solemnly, trying to convey his seriousness.

He stared everyone in the eyes, his sincerity getting through even Ajuka's scrutinizing gaze.

However, his words had another unexpected effect.

Bang!

A vase fell over as Serafall abruptly stood up, hands balled into fists as she stared incredulously at Shirou. In the next moment, she pursed her lips when everyone glanced in her direction and kept quiet as she sat back down. If one looked closely enough, one could even see her shoulders trembling.

When Shirou had said that he was never meant to exist, it played exactly into the thoughts that Serafall had begun harbouring ever since meeting Shirou. As an individual of his power, why had he not been well known until the Marbas territory was attacked? It was simple after assuming Kuro's identity as a Demon. He shouldn't have existed as Kuro had said. For most likely, the Underworld wasn't meant to have another Demon in an age where Devils ruled. As such it was most likely that Old Man Marbas's intention was to take Kuro's existence into the grave with him.

Kuro's cold expressions.

His indifference.

And his selflessness.

All were things Serafall suddenly realized with a sinking feeling may have been born as a result of the isolation Kuro must have had undergone to keep his existence a secret. It was only when the innocents were being oppressed that Kuro had taken action.

Then didn't that mean that if she had never undergone Ajuka's assignment, then she would never have had met Kuro? And Kuro, he would have had been destined to die a death acknowledged by no one?

She bit her lips.

How could she possibly accept that!

She fell into a brooding state, her brows furrowed, but at this point, no one was paying attention to her any longer. All gazes instead on Shirou.

"Is that so?" Ajuka said profoundly, his impression of the Last Demon of the Underworld elevating significantly. He had come to a similar conclusion as Serafall and now held a deep respect for the being sitting across from him. His expression softened, the tilt of his brows becoming less narrowed as he actually smiled, feeling that his worries were unfounded.

Grayfia was much the same while Sirzechs couldn't contain his jubilance and had barely managed to restrain himself from pointing at Ajuka and boasting that he was worrying too much.

On the opposite spectrum, Serafall's mood was plummeting, yet she maintained her silence even as her face darkened considerably.

"Then you do not plan to lead the underworld at the end of this war?" Falbium questioned, bringing up the most important topic.

"No, but I still intend to help you put an end to this war as soon as possible. Too many innocents are suffering at the hands of this civil strife, many having done nothing wrong yet still being affected," Shirou said without much thought, his words rendering all silent. "They don't deserve those hardships."

Shirou's face was a mask of indifference, but the emotion from his tone was finally enough for all to understand just what kind of person Marbas was.

No one had any complaints.

For he was a person fitting of the title of the Last Demon of the Underworld.

A protector and true nobility of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

* * *

The Old Satan Faction was scattered and facing destruction. With the map Shirou had obtained from Nirgul in Serafall's hands, the supplies of the Old Satan Faction were also cut short.

The lifeline of any considerable force relied on raw material and living-necessities like food and water. Without them, no matter how big an army one was, it would be impossible to maintain in the long run. Hunger and lack of equipment would then set in and cause debilitating effects.

This was one off the main reasons that those in the Old Satan Faction side had crumbled and become much smaller resistance groups as opposed to the New Satan Faction which garnered an immediate rise in standing.

Shirou sighed as he stealthily made his way down towards the encampment in front of him.

He was working alone in a similar way as Serafall and the others to locate as many resistance groups of the Old Satan Faction as possible to disband them. It hardly took any effort, and this encampment in front of him was an example of why.

He stepped foot into the resistance camp, forged Crimson Armour suffused with the energies of the World's Evil proliferating around him and catching all Devils within in a daze.

"I-It's Marbas!" One of the Devils yelled, falling back in fear.

His reputation had spread far and wide after the battle of Kalinse Plains and now anyone was able to recognize his Crimson Armour. After all, there had been a certain primer magic on that day on Kalinse Plains that had recorded the entire spectacle on the orders of the neutral party, Lord Dantalion of the Seventy-Two Pillars. He who was the keeper of books and secrets in the Underworld. The family of Librarians and Archivists, they who document the history of the world and whose library was said to contain all knowledge.

Everything had been recorded and stored, the appearance of a Demon amongst Devils unable to remain hidden.

The noise of clattering metal entered his ears along with the familiar sound of whimpering he had grown accustomed to in the following months.

In his presence, no Devil dared attempt to rebel. Even the Ultimate-Class Devil heading the present small resistance group of the Old Satan Faction put on a bitter and uncertain expression.

From the current standpoint of the Underworld, there was no longer any meaning in the civil war between the Old and the New Factions. Not since the Demon known as Marbas appeared.

It was something inherent, to give way to a rightful ruler.

This was more so for the Old Satan Faction of which the majority of it was comprised of old traditionalists. Loyalty ran high, but Loyalty to one's predecessors ran higher. This was the main problem and the reason why Shirou hadn't met with much opposition in the past few months. To continue their loyalties towards the intentions of the fallen Lucifer, or to follow the present will of a being worthy of leading them, this was the conundrum of the Old Satan Faction.

Shirou's eyes swept across the small camp. Many of the Devils present were of the High and Ultimate class, and all had given up at his presence. Of course, there were still several that didn't and wished incite others to attack, but they were quickly put down by a lurking shadow of curses unseen.

" ** _It's done. I swear, I either admire you for putting up with me for this long or take you as a fool."_**

He smirked, after hearing the words in his mind. He had grown used to the pain of his form and his level of pain resistance was now unheard of. He wouldn't even flinch if his entire body was scorched to death and minced while alive.

'Then take it as you will,' he replied back, expression unmoving as he gestured for the Old Satan Faction Devils to relinquish themselves to the New Satan Faction devils that would be coming in a moment.

The Old Satan faction devils all did so without much complaint, seeing the results of what had happened to those cursed by the World's taint.

Warts and festering wounds had opened up in place of clear skin, oozing and puss filled, the anguished expressions of the affected particularly chilling.

 ** _"Weaklings,"_** the voice in his head seemed to scoff. As Shirou wasn't in direct contact, the level of curse wasn't exactly high, yet they had still succumbed to it. On one hand it was a blessing, but on the other, every devil opposed to him was intimidated. After all, it appeared as if he could take down High-Class Devils just by walking. He hadn't even attacked yet.

None dared to meet his gaze, all looking towards the ground as devils in the New Satan Faction soon arrived and apprehended them.

It was only then, when all danger was gone did Shirou move towards a certain location.

A steel cage fueled by some type of reinforcement magic that flashed with magical light upon contact.

Shirou's brows furrowed. He could see the people from within staring at him in fear and apprehension. They didn't recognize him. How could they when they had been locked up and unable to hear the news regarding him?

He smiled for once. At least he wouldn't be getting basked in praise again.

He stretched a hand out and gently prodded the magic enhancement on the cage.

"Don't!" A child called from within. He was malnourished with arms thin enough to be compared with sticks. From his magical fluctuations, he was like most devils within, low or mid-class.

Shirou shook his head, understanding what the child was warning him of.

To be honest, there were certain disparities in the way the Old Satan Faction members treated their captives. Some held them in contempt like the radicals and abused them, while the majority still had compassion for their fellow devils as the civil war was simply a clash of ideologies. The devils inside the containment were thin yes, but they weren't that worse off with some even having bright complexions. Therefore, to some extent, they understood that the Old Satan Faction Devils didn't truly want to kill them.

It was this reasoning that prompted the boy within the containment to voice a warning to him who seemingly didn't understand the magic imbued upon the cage.

The thing was, he did.

The tips of his fingers began to blacken as he forced his hands through the magical enhancement, his skin peeling and flaking away into crumbling embers. He should have flinched after undergoing such pain, but he showed no such emotion even as the scent of charred flesh wafted up his nose. Instead, just as if it appeared that Shirou would lose his hands for his actions, they gripped upon the steel bars of the cage and pulled with reinforced strength.

A groaning sound of metal echoed out, and the bars bent enough until a hole the size of a man was formed. Over the hole, a magic seal flashed abruptly before distorting and dissipating, the tether it was attached to ruined by force.

The boy gaped in silence, the others in the room murmuring amongst themselves in amazement that had yet to end.

Shirou knelt down towards the boy and prompted him to raise his hands, the bound rope around them carefully unwound such that the course fibers wouldn't dig into the skin.

It was a treatment towards lower classed devils that baffled the captives. After all, they had assumed that they were being rescued from the moment they saw their captors restrained. However, they had also assumed that it would be those devils working for Shirou that would help free them. Not Shirou himself who appeared to be in a class higher than their own.

All left in a daze, they didn't even realize it when they were safely secured in the hands of the devils of the New Satan Faction. The impression Shirou left upon them would be one that would be hard to forget.

Shirou watched as the devils around him thanked him profusely for his efforts before leaving towards other areas they were assigned to. Left alone, Shirou stared at the empty camp and sat upon a chair cushioned with soft cotton and woven in wool.

Any minute now, he thought, glancing up towards the sky.

The civil war of the faction would end today if Ajuka's reports were proven correct.

The Old Satan Faction was already finished, and the last of them had apparently moved towards the one location he actually needed to go.

 _"The area of my supposed death,"_ God's voice communicated. Shirou was alone now and it was unlikely that someone would be able to detect God's heavenly aura. _"It's as if fate wills it."_

With the loss at Kalinse Plains, many Old Satan Faction members had lost their determination as they didn't know what it was that they should fight for. However, some of them still believed in another scenario. The reason why the Crimson Legions of the Underworld were opposed to them. Perhaps there was a hidden message left behind by the Original Lucifer that only the most loyal of subordinates were tasked with?

The Legions, the arms and legs of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

Although Shirou knew for certain that the Crimson Legion wouldn't appear again due to his desire to not put others in danger, the majority of the Underworld didn't understand that. Therefore, a misunderstanding had formed.

He sighed, expression vacant.

When he had first arrived, he had resolved himself against the advising of God to change the timeline and put an end to the suffering caused by the civil war sooner. Now that that cause was coming to a close, it was time to finish what he had come here to do.

 _"Then go, you yourself won't have to search. I'll follow the trail left behind by my own energy."_

Shirou nodded, and it was then that God fell silent, sensing the approach of a devil.

"Serafall," he greeted the new arrival.

"Kuro," she replied back, steadying herself after reaching Shirou.

There was a sheen of sweat on her face, and a healthy rosiness on her cheeks that belied her exertion in reaching him. Ever since the end of the battle of Kalinse Plains, Serafall had been acting strange regarding him. Yet, he had never questioned it because he knew that in the end, it wouldn't matter.

"I suppose it's around time, isn't it?" He said, glancing in her direction and nodding his head. "To put an end to this all."

She nodded, but her expression grew unnaturally still such that even Shirou took notice more because the paleness of her face concerned him.

"Sirzechs and the others have already begun gathering everyone. It will be the final push to end this war in the next couple days," she said in monotone. However, Shirou realized that there was something wrong. There didn't seem to be any traces of happiness or joy in both Serafall's expression and body language.

In fact, she was rubbing at her arm, and her eyes were dour.

Shirou grew concerned but realized that he had waited too long before answering.

"Then all the better," he said. The end of the war would mean the beginning of the years of peace that Sona and Rias would later enjoy and grow accustomed to till the point where one would even become an anime addict.

Serafall swallowed as the two fell into a silence, the sound of chirping birds and the buzzing of insects creating a gentle sort of atmosphere. Yet everything was only on the surface.

A storm was raging within Serafall's mind.

"Hey Kuro," she called.

"Hmm?" He replied, tilting his head.

The action of his would have had been something Serafall would have had enjoyed looking at, but at the moment, it only brought her a certain degree of inner pain and strife.

Her hands balled into fists, her decision made.

"A-After the war, what are you going to do?" She asked suddenly.

Caught of guard, Shirou's expression actually broke to display a rare widening of his eyes that caused Serafall to ignite in a feeling of faith. Perhaps she could get through to him. However, her faith and thoughts of the future were brutally crushed right before her. For Kuro's expression immediately blanked, not a word leaving his mouth.

She felt like sobbing, but held it in. It was unbecoming and she didn't want Kuro to come to a decision out of pity.

Yet his silence alone was telling.

He would leave.

Her lips quivered as she swallowed, feeling as if she could no longer speak as her voice would most certainly break. She was a woman of around eighteen, almost nineteen years of age, and perhaps she had never known what it meant to truly grow attached to someone. The words that her mother had spoken to her that described such a feeling had always been foreign, but now she understood them clearly. She didn't want him to leave, to lose him, but she had always been mindful of the wishes of others. It was why she had been described as soft in some aspects that correlated with the intentions of allowing any individual to choose their own path. She wouldn't force anyone to walk a road not of their own choosing like the Old Satan Faction. Yet her mouth still opened and words spilled forth from her lips, her unwillingness unable to be suppressed.

"The lands of Marbas, the devils there are waiting for you," She tried, masking her anxiety behind a calm expression. "That little girl, Adelina, is also there waiting."

No response.

"They're all waiting for you, Kuro. You're their hero," she tried again, making an effort to prevent her voice from cracking. "The other devils that had arrived at the territory, they're expanding it even now. Would you just leave them without another word?"

Again, no response.

The devils of the Underworld had survived once without him, they could do so again, especially under the rule of the new Four Great Satans: Serafall, Sirzechs, Falbium, and Ajuka. He was the one who didn't belong. A traveller out of his time.

Serafall pursed her lips, her head bowing lowly.

"T-The Sitri house," she said. "You can come with me there. There's, uh, there's a banquet," she was fumbling with her words, but she could hardly care as all that mattered was convincing him. "Allon has already gone and made preparations, all we have to do is arrive at the end of the war before it commences."

Once again, no response.

Serafall swallowed, her head turning sharply, unable to meet Kuro's honest eyes. For she didn't want him to see the tears pooling within hers.

"Serafall," Kuro's voice startled her.

There was a warmth and caring to it that helped ease her mood.

"I can only promise you that I can if I'm able," he said.

Yet that was enough for her, even if it was a lie, she would cling to it till the very end.

"Mmhm," she nodded her head, the two then leaving to meet up with Sirzechs and the rest.

* * *

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	26. The Sword and the Underworld: Arc End

Memories fade as if like water on a barren ground, but some things can never be forgotten even if one would rather forget.

The desolated hills and pieces of land around a single valley were strewn with lingering fires of unearthly magic that crackled with embers that billowed in a still wind. There was a certain muskiness to the surroundings that denoted the eeriness of the area, as if one could still feel that those that had caused the destruction were still present.

Great beings that dictated the course of the Great War between the Factions. The leaders of two of the three opposing forces.

Heaven and the Underworld.

The Valley of Revelation, the battleground of God and the Four Great Satans shrouded in mystery.

It was littered with numerous cervices and deep depressions that seemed to lead into dark chasms without an end in sight, the powers of the four Great Satans combined almost unfathomable. Yet perhaps even more so was the one individual who could combat them all without losing ground.

God, King of Heaven.

The hated adversary of all devils in the Great War between the Factions. For his words were the very will of the world. Let there be death and then there was death. Let there be light, and then there was light, the greatest natural killer of devil kind.

God was practically invincible, and the undisputed lynch pin that maintained Heaven's morale for the war. For God was with them, and there was simply no greater power. Not one of the Great Satans or even Super Devils could oppose him individually. Even the original Seventy-Two Demons had to tread carefully when God was at his prime. This was why God's death had effectively rendered Heaven in a state of turmoil and panic. No one had expected it, for him to meet an untimely end.

This was why many in Heaven considered it a ploy or refused to believe it. However, God's absence was undeniable, and this absence would later be described as his death. But in the current era, many in Heaven were still adamantly opposed to such views, including its current leader, Michael of the Seraphim.

Regardless of what the true outcome was, the marks left behind by the clash of the powers was undeniable proof that something _did_ occur.

And Euclid Lucifuge believed that this place was the only place he would ever find his answers.

He trudged through the magic laced battle field, warry of activating any unknown magic seals or stumbling upon the lingering buds of potent light in the vicinity. He knew that his chances of death would be exceedingly high should he run into any. The light would burn him, incinerating him to the point of no return. The skin would first blacken before quickly peeling off into flakes that faded like dust in the wind, not even a scent to be left behind.

Euclid swallowed as he maneuvered through the area, hands feeling out and grasping for any holds to hoist him up the next elevated platform for he dared not fly. The buds of light were potent, and would surely kill him, but he was wearier of the other magics left behind. Those used by the Great Satans, including the original Lucifer.

They weren't as strong as the light, but their effects were more lasting. Curses, poisons, and an untold number of restrictive and paralyzing effects. It was true that God was the undisputed strongest, but the Four Great Satans together made up for that in versatility. Where God had devoted his time for the Humans with the creation of the Sacred Gears, the Great Satans spent their time on the formulas derived from their magic seals. As such, their effects became more evident, more prominent.

It was why Ajuka could be counted as a Super Devil. For although Ajuka possessed the strength of an Ultimate-Class Devil, it was far from enough to be counted as a Super Devil. It was his superior intellect that ran on the same principle of altering the formulas of magic to create his very own destructive and intuitive brand that allowed him the leap between classes.

Euclid grit his teeth, found a hold on the narrow crevice, and hoisted himself up with the tensing of his forearms.

The answer he wished to find could only be found here, therefore, it didn't matter the danger.

His mind was still in turmoil; just like the many of the Old Satan Faction members that suffered defeat at Kalinse Plains on that day and lived to tell the tale. Unlike them however, Euclid's mind wasn't plagued by fear, but indecision and moral dilemma as he had fled in a panic. His major driving force, his conviction, shaken.

Grayfia Lucifuge.

His older sister, had she known something that he had not?

Had he been too quick to judge and condemn the figure he adored the most?

The Crimson Legion and a Demon itself opposing him on that day were more than enough for him to doubt and to think. Yet it was driving him crazy, for no answer could satisfy him. For all answers simply begot more questions.

Just like the majority of all devils, Euclid too believed that a Demon had all rights to lead the Underworld as its next leader, but the Last Demon of the Underworld had views opposing Lucifer's will. As a loyalist, this was the thought that plagued his mind. Was the last Demon of the Underworld worthy of supplanting the faith he had in the original Lucifer? Or was it impossible to acknowledge another despite the individual being qualified?

He didn't know.

The hope he clung to for an answer was his initial speculation. That he and everyone from the Old Satan Faction had neglected a message Lucifer had left behind and the that the New Satan Faction knew to garner the help of Marbas.

If this speculation was true, then he could finally accept everything; to make up to his sister and to fight for a true purpose without any doubts and indecisiveness.

For that, he would risk it all.

An arc of magical light sailed above him as he made his way down the path that he was following, briefly illuminating the darkness around him and revealing the jagged edges of the slope leading down into a bottomless chasm. He would certainly die if he fell, but regardless he had trudged up platform to platform, increasing his elevation. It was a path that he had made upon careful consideration. A path entirely different from the other Old Satan Faction members that were also in the area similarly looking for answers.

His fingers were growing numb after several hours of climbing, dirt digging beneath his nails and causing the skin near them to redden.

He put up with the pain, even scoffing at the other members of the Old Satan Faction he could see from his vantage point. They were taking a safer approach; not daring to venture forth where there was danger of death. The fools. Where danger lied was where fortune was to be gained.

In this case, he pulled himself up the final plateau, his goal was right before him in a fissure hidden at the highest elevation; a glowing mass of light surpassing anything he had ever seen but was able to detect due to his proximity.

Beneath the energies of light, and contained within, was a black and murky taint that seeped into the surroundings.

The energy all too familiar.

A malevolence and evil that permeated in a manner almost identical to Marbas. He who was worthy to lead the Underworld.

It was the energy of a Demon.

* * *

Serafall had been quiet during the course of the journey to the Valley of Revelation, her expressions hard to read. Then again, he chose not to pay much attention to it, for he had no words or answers to give that he thought would be able to comfort her. Thus, silence became the best medicine.

Shirou had confidence that she would return to her former self given enough time.

His eyes scanned the area around him before stopping at a small outpost that he knew that Sirzechs and the others were staying at partly for reconnaissance and strategy planning.

It was situated just outside of the Valley and far away enough that the Old Satan Faction members within wouldn't know of their presence unless by coincidence. Then again, the chances of such a thing were rather miniscule with the security placed around the outpost.

He and Serafall were soon upon the area, stopping just by the entrance before voicing their arrival.

The fabric of the tent that made up the outpost rustled before Falbium opened up the flap, his eyes filled with unwillingness and making it quite likely that he was forced to be the one to receive them.

"And they call me lazy," Falbium muttered before gesturing for Shirou and Serafall to follow him into the inner chamber.

The outpost was rather large for a tent, long fabrics strewn together into a meshwork that could only be described as art. For despite the plainness of a tent, the devils seemed to bring a certain elegance to it with superior decoration. Fibers of gold coloured thread sewn together to highlight the moderately placed furniture within. Tables, chairs, and recliners all spaced evenly and facing a warm crackling fire. It all seemed so luxurious despite Shirou knowing that it was the opposite in a time of war, but the devil's sense of aesthetics appeared to be on another level.

Serafall didn't seem to find anything wrong with it, but Shirou was always left at a loss each time as he stared forth at the sheer grandeur made from simplicity. Regardless, Falbium soon lead them towards the location where Grayfia, Sirzechs, and Ajuka sat waiting.

"And they have arrived, your majesties," Falbium grumbled sarcastically, drawling out as he then slunk back into his own seat and rested his head on his arms.

"Serafall, Marbas," Sorzechs greeted with a smile.

Ajuka simply nodded as Grayfia remained in the back, her hands held together on her lap.

The two greeted back before taking an offered seat.

Ajuka leaned forward and clasped his hands over the table.

"The time is at hand," Ajuka said, his expression neutral. "We have located all of the Old Satan Faction members within the Valley and need only deploy ourselves before we can end this war."

Everyone nodded, for they had all gathered for this very reason.

"Although the Old Satan Faction members within the valley are few, the reason this task requires us all is because those few are the traditionalists. Those with unwavering devotion to carry out Lucifer's will and the strongest core members of the Old Satan Faction." Ajuka's eyes gleamed.

"Generally, we would not have had been able to bring them out in the open so soon, but things have changed."

All eyes shifted towards Shirou, the Last Demon of the Underworld who stared back impassively, his bronze coloured eyes revealing his decisiveness.

It was because of him that the core members of the Old Satan Faction surfaced so soon. Even if they had unwavering devotion towards Lucifer's will, when facing the next worthy leader of the Underworld, they too had to reconsider some things; the fact, that they may have had neglected a vital piece of information that had put them on opposite sides of the Crimson Legion and Marbas's will. Therefore, like Euclid, they had all ventured towards the Valley of Revelation searching desperately for a missing link, and thus providing the New Satan Faction an opportunity.

"If we can apprehend all of them, then this day will mark the end of the civil war," Ajuka concluded.

Sirzechs grinned as relieved expression flashed across the room. It was only Serafall's that remained neutral and truthfully, a darker part of herself wished for the war to last for an eternity.

Her eyes glanced at Kuro, a bitterness welling from within her at the unfairness of it all. Her lips thinned and all she could do to keep herself from doing something irredeemable was cling onto a single hope. The hope in his words. Yet,

"M-Maybe not all of them came here," she couldn't help but stammer out an excuse. "T-Then that means that there's still the possibility of the war not ending."

"Unlikely," Grayfia immediately shot Serafall down, missing the subtle stiffening of her face. "As an individual who was of high rank in the Old Satan Faction, I can guarantee that the majority, and likely all of the core members will show up looking for answers. Admittedly, even I would have had been no different with the sheer impact created by the reappearance of the Crimson Legion and Marbas."

"Then this makes everything easier," Falbium yawned as he lifted his head to address everyone. "We route them, encase them in a perimeter focused more on maintaining our defensive position, and then send in the heavy hitters to oust any form of resistance."

Serafall swallowed, her brows knitting together.

"Even still, aren't we carrying things out too soon?" She insisted, trying to buy as much time as possible. After all, her argument was valid.

As the core members of the Old Satan Faction, a majority were of the Ultimate Class, beings that would be able to defeat most devils single-handedly. Of course, she was also of the Ultimate Class and they _did_ have Sirzechs and Ajuka, but even still, the Old Satan Faction had strength in numbers. Not withstanding, the other Super Class Devil that had yet to partake in the civil war. Thus, she concluded that there was indeed merit in her argument.

She felt a small burst of relief that was quickly extinguished at the next moment.

"Even if we are, we still have Marbas," Grayfia said flatly, back leaning against her seat in a show of the confidence she had in her conjecture.

It was a harsh truth that seemed to pour cold water over all of Serafall's thoughts. Indeed, they had Marbas, she thought miserably. She had seen how his presence alone was enough to get even the most loyal of Old Satan Faction members to submit, and even if they didn't, Kuro had more than enough strength to force them to.

"I'll do my part," Shirou said simply when everyone turned towards him in confirmation of Grayfia's words. "The only thing now is when we begin."

"Gladly," Sirzechs said before handing a small pile of papers to Shirou. "Ajuka has already theorized where the majority of the Old Satan Faction members will gather and has explained it in this intelligence report. Any stragglers will be dealt with through Ajuka and myself, while Falbium, Serafall, and Grayfia, will help coordinate our members in the defensive."

Shirou glanced at Sirzechs and then back down at the papers in his hands. "You've thought this out," he commented.

"Naturally," Ajuka spoke before Sirzechs could even open his mouth, causing a small smile to play over Grayfia's lips as she knew Srizechs personality well enough.

"That being the case," Ajuka's gazed through the small opening at the roof of the tent used to let out smoke, mouth curving. "The day is approaching its end; shall we get a move on?"

* * *

Shirou stood standing in the location he was specified to be in and made sure that no one was near him before discretely allowing a holy aura to suffuse his hands.

 _"We are close,"_ God's voice spoke. _"If you are to head north past the crevices and small fissures, you should arrive at an elevated plateau. It's there that I recall using up all of my remaining power to attempt to contain the taint of the Grail. Unfortunately, it didn't work fully, allowing segments of it to seep out and survive until the modern age. In this era, we will be able to follow that trail to discover where it is that seeped energy had gone to."_

Shirou nodded his head, but there were still things he had to do first. With a thought, the holy aura around his hands vanished, leaving in thin trails of white wisps that were no different from the energies of the buds of light in the distance.

He walked forward, his steps carefully placed to avoid the magical seals laid sporadically across the ground. He could tell from a glance with Structural Analysis that the magics within them were enough to even cause him some damage without the expenditure of his powers.

His moves were careful, the slightest action only done after some consideration. Soon he arrived at a suitable location behind a pile of loose boulders and waited.

Minutes passed followed by hours, and it wasn't until he felt the vibration in the ground that he knew that his adversaries had arrived.

He peaked from behind the rocks and stared to assess their numbers. There were around several hundred Old Satan Faction members congregated together and treading carefully across the area. They were speaking in low mutters, but he could understand them nonetheless with his reinforced hearing.

"This is getting us nowhere," one spoke.

"You may think that, but we must persevere regardless," another older and wizened voice spoke. "The things we seek are of vital importance."

They continued to murmur to themselves, discontent and opposing views creating a disharmonious drabble.

Shirou pressed himself against the stone face of the rocks he was hiding behind and motioned forth with his hands towards Ajuka and Sirzechs in the distance, signalling for them to prepare themselves along with the others.

The defining moment was when he would step forward and reveal himself. Yet, he chose to wait until the Old Satan Faction members were in the heart of the veritable land mine of magical seals before stepping out from behind the rocks.

As expected, he was recognized immediately.

"M-Marbas!" The shout resounded, startling everyone.

It was the devil who had been complaining earlier. A beauty of a woman with a buxom figure wound tight by a slim dress that revealed her slender curves. Her black hair was tied and cropped at the sides, a pony tail extending from the back.

A wave of the power of all the World's Evil then stifled her and everyone else thinking of fleeing, even causing them to be at a loss for words. Reports were one thing, but experiencing it was another matter entirely.

The Old Satan Faction members had described Marbas's presence and energy to be exceedingly overbearing to the point where it was almost impossible to even breath. Yet those reports had come from the mouths of mid and high-class devils, causing those of the Ultimate class to simply view the reports with a grain of salt. Clearly though, they were too lax.

Marbas.

He was terrifying.

There was a skin tingling sensation that passed over them the longer they were subjected to Marbas's pressure. It was almost as if something was crawling up their arms and legs, causing black legions that festered with puss to spring up from unblemished skin.

A curse.

One powerful enough to affect even Ultimate Class devils.

Panicked, it was almost a certainty when an unmindful Old Satan Faction member stepped upon a glimmering magic seal and activated it. The devil's eyes widened before filling with an undisguised horror as a swarm of shadow-formed locust bypassed his magical defences and directly began to feast upon his flesh.

The devil's screams were the only sound to play in the eerie silence of the Valley.

None dared move any further, but some did dare to flee into the skies unhindered as they moved in a direction without any signs of magic circles. But even before they could get far, a flash of crimson and green blocked their path.

"I suggest you stay," Ajuka spoke confidently as Sirzechs stood imposingly by his side.

The two Super Devils of the New Satan Faction had made their appearance, blocking the escape path of any Old Satan Faction members. It was then that Grayfia, Serafall, and Falbium lead the devils of the New Satan Faction to surround the vicinity effectively trapping everyone.

To put up a fight was futile, the Old Satan Faction members were already sure of their defeat. For even though they had confidence in dealing with Sirzechs and Ajuka using certain measures, but they had no way to deal with the Last Demon of the Underworld. Nor could they garner enough courage to oppose he with the right to rule. It was against their very principles as traditionalists.

Surrender was the only option as it could be said that the Civil War had ended the very moment the New Satan Faction had garnered the support of a Demon.

One by one, the expressions of the Old Satan Faction members fell in defeat. None would question Marbas power, for he had displayed it all in Kalinse Plains. The blackened grounds and the authority to command the Legions of the Underworld being more than enough to quell any thoughts of battle. For even if they succeed in escaping, they would never be able to escape the pursuit of the Crimson Legion should Marbas order it.

"O mighty demon," an Old Satan Faction member fell upon the ground on his knees. "We will serve you, but you must accede to us at least one request. To answer us one question."

Shirou raised a brow.

"Do you act upon a will left behind by our predecessors, the Four Great Satans?"

All attention fell upon a single individual. One who didn't seem to care at all about anything as the expressionlessness of his features caused one to shiver.

"Think of this as you will," Shirou said after a moment, his thoughts filled with the images that God was sending him during his clash with the Great Satans.

"One to rule many, two to rule a land,"

His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but they were enough for shock to instantly spread throughout the older generation of the Old Satan Faction. Specifically, those that had participated in the Great War between the Factions alongside their rulers.

"Three to unite the depths of purgatory,"

Stronger now, loud enough that all could hear.

The images and sounds preserved in the memory of God during the clash between factions.

The creed known only between the Four Great Satans of the Great War and their close associates.

"And four to conquer the Heavens and the Earth."

Silence.

Not one Devil spoke, both in the new Satan Faction and the Old. Yet the Old Satan Faction members had lights in their eyes that spoke of their astonishment and awe. Some even kneeling on the ground.

Shirou already understood the risk of saying such words, but he also understood that without saying them, those loyalists in the Old Satan Faction's Side would _never_ truly submit. By saying the creed, it was like openly admitting that there was indeed something that the Old Satan Faction didn't know about their deceased leaders, but at the same time it gave rise to new questions on the New Satan Faction's side who couldn't understand how he could have had known such information. For all they had known, Serafall coincidently stumbling upon him was what brought him to their side. Now it appeared as if there was another story. As such, he would have to explain further, and in such a case, he was fortunate that God had a reasonable answer.

"I am Marbas of House Marbas, and I," he paused. "I was the final weapon of the Four Great Satans. A trump card whose purpose had died long ago."

All Devils, Angels, and Fallen who fought in the Great War Understood that it would never end without an overwhelming advantage. As such, the common point in each faction was to devise a means to surpass the other powers. The Four Great Satans were no different. Just that he was using this reasoning as an excuse.

"I am a Demon, perhaps the last of my kind," he continued, expression shifting to narrowed eyes as his fists clenched. "The strongest Pillar of the Underworld."

His eyes scanned across the frozen expressions of all those around, many not knowing how to react.

"You are all free to decide what to believe, but in the words of your own past leaders, the military overseer Asmodeus, a scattered Underworld is a defeated Underworld. The entire Civil War was a joke that shouldn't have had happened."

The Old Satan Faction members felt a pang of shame well up from within them while looking at those unblinking bronze coloured eyes.

"We, we…" the Old Satan faction members fell silent, no more words needing to be said; the legitimacy of Marbas's heritage and actions causing no further room for protest.

At that moment, all present knew that the Civil War was truly over.

Cheers resounded, loud joy filled bellows that stemmed from the very gut resounding out in the desolated Valley of Revelation.

Sirzechs and Ajuka nodded at each other as Falbium sat on his but intending to relax only for Grayfia to pinch his ear and force him back into work.

"We did it," Sirzechs announced brightly.

Another wave of excitement befell the area, but perhaps the one least affected by the excitement was Serafall. While the others were too excited over the end of the Civil War to think over the words Kuro had said, she was different. She had been listening attentively from the very beginning.

A final trump card in the Great War.

One whose purpose had died long ago.

Then what did Kuro have left?

Nothing.

An existence without purpose.

Someone that wasn't meant to exist.

She bit her lips, her body moving her closer to him but freezing the very moment a light stronger and more overbearing than any other filled the area.

A Holy Aura.

Enough of it to bath the entirety of the underworld twice over if spread out.

"T-This feeling," a veteran Old Satan Faction member stuttered out. "The light that shines within all Darkness."

The Light of God.

Shirou's eyes narrowed, staring at the form of the sole devil he could see at the highest point in the Valley of Revelation and nearest to the source of the dazzling light.

It was none other than Euclid Lucifuge who had tampered with the unstable energies holding the powers at bay.

"Sirzechs!" Ajuka's calm expression distorted, revealing an expression of urgency. "We have to suppress that power fast!"

Sirzechs frowned, his power of destruction raging around him before spiraling towards the growing source of light, the energies colliding in a storm of red and white that generated winds which upturned gravel and rocks.

Yet it wasn't enough. For God's Light was the power of creation. That of life.

No matter how much destruction Sirzechs's power brought, it wasn't enough to overpower the other energy. In fact, the longer the confrontation continued the more strength the light was gaining.

Ajuka's expression turned grim. The power and aura that the light before them was emitting was too great to handle and had the potential to cause apocalyptic type damage to the Underworld in the long term. What would have had generally dissipated over time was released all at once by Euclid Lucifuge, creating catastrophic effects. Yet, if that were the only concern, Ajuka wouldn't have had lost his composure due to certain countermeasure that they could take. Instead, he had grown unsettled on another prospect.

Heaven and its forces.

Should they sense this familiar power, and knowing Heaven's current instability, they would arrive in full force in hopes of seeking out their Father. Any and all obstacles in their way meaning nothing in their pursuit.

The Great War would recommence, bringing disaster once again.

Knowing this, Sirzechs grunted before his form began to shift to utilize the full extent of his power. His features blurred, the clothing of his body glowing with an ethereal red glow that masked everything behind a torrent of dense destructive power.

Sirzechs, the Crimson Satan and Super Devil of the Underworld unleashed his full power.

The world shook, the earth trembling, creating cracks that lead into a fiery abyss of flowing magma and suffocating soot. Rocks fell like rain, disintegrating into nothing upon contact with the tendrils of destructive energy that spread out like threads in the wind that avoided the devils below.

Yet in the face of that, all it was able to do was contain God's Light, unable to destroy it while God's light was unable to engulf it. It was a stalemate, doing nothing to suppress God's Light from being sensed by the Heavens.

Ajuka was left at a loss and Falbium had long ago stood with his back straight and expression grim. It was the end of a war, but now it appeared to just be the beginning of another.

"Damn it," Sirzechs's cursed, his voice distorted by the raging energies around him.

He needed far more power if he wanted to destroy the source of light before him.

And in that moment, the Kankura Formula appeared, large rotating magic circles creating a box like shape that attempted to aid Sirzechs. The magic circles amplifying the intensity of Sirzechs power of destruction using sheer calculation and numerical factors to alter reality. The Kankura Formula wasn't the only one.

A gale force of ice.

The greenish hue of energy of the Glasya-Lobalas family.

And the auras of both the Old and New Satan Faction.

The Underworld once again stood united.

For all knew that if this power was released the Great War would start again. It was true that the Old Satan Faction members had desired a recommencement of the Great War, but the position they would be left in due to the effects of God's light was far from desirable.

They gave their all, the light of magic and power illuminating the skies with complex magic circles and the characteristic abilities of the descendants of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

Bael of the power of Destruction.

Sitri of Water Affinity.

Agares of Time Manipulation.

Balam of Super Strength and Resistance.

However, it wasn't enough.

God's light was overbearing, and at the end of the day, the descendants of the Seventy-Two Pillars were no where near the level of the Seventy-Two Demons that had once stood as God's equal in the Underworld.

But there was still one.

A dark and malevolent power unlike any other clashed against the Light of God. It seemed minuscule in comparison and shouldn't have had as much of an effect as everyone else. However, a ripple formed in God's light, travelling throughout the entire mass and causing it to tremble.

All eyes widened in shock, turning towards the sole Pillar amidst the white.

He whose power was unfathomable.

He who had the right to command the Legions.

Marbas, the Last Demon of the Underworld.

A Guardian Nobility of the Seventy-Two Pillars, A Demon of the Ars Goetia.

The Lion of the Underworld roared, fangs bared and standing at the very forefront. A magic seal stretched out, fortifying all others, the rallying effect of a Demon amongst devils. The energies that the devils had used up were gradually being restored; Sirzechs's power of destruction intensifying.

They pushed forth with renewed vigour, yet even then it wasn't working. The only power proving effective was the demonic energy of Marbas. Nonetheless, there was a reason for that.

Because unlike Sirzechs and the others, he wasn't opposing God's energy but absorbing it, and it wasn't long before all would be able to understand that.

God's light broke off into numerous trails of flickering iridescences that struck against his body, causing the form of All the Worlds Evil he had been maintaining to waver. His skin flayed, and the black tribal marks fading along with it, his body constantly bathed in the light.

It appeared as if he was dying.

For light was both a Devil's and a Demon's bane.

"Marbas," Sirzechs mouthed in realization. "Y-You can't mean to-"

"I won't allow it!" Serafall forcibly placed herself between Shirou and the trails of light, her skin beginning to redden as the light threatened to burn her into ashes.

Her intentions were clear. She would bear the burden too.

Her powers erupted around her in an attempt to shield her from the light, her power manifesting in the form of a crystalline ice barrier that was breaking fast. It was simply impossible for her to maintain it, but she still pushed on.

The memories she had of him.

The values he had shown to her.

She didn't want to lose him.

"AAHG!" She yelled, the temperature of the Valley of Revelation dropping dramatically such that frost and snow steadily began to coat the scenery. A frozen hell, a world of white, and she at its center.

In the midst of it all, a hand placed itself on her shoulder.

"Serafall," Shirou spoke, feelings of guilt hidden within his tone. "I'm sorry."

The hand pulled down, forcibly sending her flying far off into the distance. It would be a lie to say that he wasn't moved that she would do so much for him, but he couldn't allow her to die. She was too important to the future. She would become a Great Satan, the older sister to a bookworm of a younger sister who was too intelligent for her own good.

He had already changed the past, he didn't wish to do so any further.

Left depleted of power, Serafall couldn't stop herself immediately in midair and crashed into an underbrush of foliage.

Shirou turned his attention elsewhere, towards the two individuals he knew could stop Serafall when she eventually recovered enough strength to beeline straight back.

"Sirzechs, Ajuka," he called.

The two and everyone else were no longer using their powers to contain God's light as there was no longer a need, the entirety of it flowing towards Shirou.

"You can't possibly ask us of this," Sirzechs attempted to deny.

However, there was something in Shirou's gaze that caused him to falter. It was the determination behind those bronze coloured orbs.

"If you take me as the rightful ruler of the Underworld, then please do as I ask. This will be my first, and final request," he said.

He never had any plans of ruling the Underworld, but the opinions of the others had already placed him in a position of power.

"B-But,"

Shirou raised a hand.

"This is something that I must do," he said before then turning to Ajuka whose lips were thinned. "Ajuka, you should understand the need for this more than I."

Although the members of the Old Satan Faction had submitted, there was still those in both the New and the Old who knew what the presence of a Demon in the Underworld entailed. God was dead, and although the Underworld lost its Four Great Satans, a Demon had returned to lead them. As such, the Underworld was currently at an advantage, and many didn't even have to think to understand this. The War would be favourable. All it would take was a single instigation by a nameless devil and the Great war could begin anew.

This was the reason why Ajuka was able to draw his own conclusions when Shirou had said that he wasn't supposed to exist. For his presence was detrimental in and out of itself. It wasn't because of the danger he would bring, but the _potential_ of something substantial occurring.

Ajuka was generally a logical person, analytical and far seeing, yet even he had emotion. Being a tyrannical and overbearing ruler was one thing, but a benevolent and protecting ruler he had the pleasure of calling friend was another. His feelings strongly told him that it was wrong to follow through with the most logical decision.

As such, Ajuka's brows knit together.

"There are still other ways," he said. "There is no single solution to a problem, just a means that has yet to be discovered."

Sirzechs was quick to agree, but a single sentence forced their mouths shut.

"And at what cost?"

If they were to abandon the current set up, then that would mean that Marbas would stop drawing God's light into himself and release it back into the Underworld. An untold number of lives would be lost, and Heaven's intervention would only be a matter of time.

"We can not afford another start to the Great War. The risk is too substantial," Shirou concluded.

Ajuka and Sirzechs spoke not a word.

They could see it in Shirou's eyes, his mind had already been made, but even still, they were caught in indecision. From a leader's perspective, Shirou's words made perfect sense, but Sirzechs more than Ajuka wasn't the type of individual to condemn another. He was kind for a future Great Satan.

Shirou shook his head.

"It's the only way," he said indifferently, expression unmoving. "I've already decided on a course of action and no words the two of you say can stop me. You all knew as well as I that I planned on leaving from the very beginning. Might as well make it a grand exit."

 _But leaving didn't mean dying._

The words both Sirzechs and Ajuka thought were left unsaid, their minds unsettled.

"The only thing I ask of you two is to stop Serafall. She will die if she attempts to intervene again, she doesn't have enough energy to shield herself a second time."

He bowed. "Please. I don't want her to die."

From man to man, Sirzechs and Ajuka could understand what this request meant, Sirzechs more so than Ajuka for he had Grayfia. When a man lowers his head to another, there could only be one of three reasons. One for acknowledgment, another for paying respects to one's fathers and mothers, and the last for a life's request that could only be made once.

It showed his conviction, his will, and his desire to keep Serafall safe.

Sirzechs placed a hand on Ajuka's shoulders and shook his head. There was no point in arguing any further. In respect for the one who would sacrifice himself for all, it would be a slight not to follow through with a last request.

Sirzechs expression grew rigid, taking on the impassiveness required of a leader in the New Satan Faction. He had resolved himself, his eyes glancing one last time at a true ruler of the Underworld, one worthy of the title.

"I will see it through," he said.

Ajuka could only frown before following in Sirzechs example, the two disappearing in the direction Serafall had landed.

Left to his own devices, Shirou focused the entirety of his attention on absorbing God's Light, the turbulence generated from his rate of absorption muffling the hate filled yell that soon echoed within the sky.

* * *

"Sirzechs! Ajuka!" Her voice was hoarse, on the verge of breaking down. "Get out of my way!"

She could see him in the distance, the light _eating_ away at him. He was going to die. He was going to die.

The thought continually played within her mind along with the promise he had made. It made her current fury towards Sirzechs and Ajuka reach levels unheard of, causing even the indifference on Sirzechs face to falter from her stare alone.

"Serafall, we-"

"SHUT UP!"

Sirzechs sighed as he dodged to the left, the power of Serafall's attacks a far cry from the strength of the woman he knew at her peak. With Serafalls reduced reserves, it was all too easy for Sirzechs to hold her back, let alone Ajuka who was helping from the side.

A burst of cold air spiralled towards Sirzechs, but a flash of magical light revealed Ajuka's Kankura Formation which shifted the trajectory of Serafall's attack directly towards the ground.

"Serafall, enough is enough," Ajuka said, Kankura Formula coming to a halt as feelings of guilt delaying his actions.

"It was _you_ ," Serafall accused in her anger, fully knowing that it was far from the truth yet saying so anyway. "It was you who instigated him into this."

Ajuka shut his mouth before simply shaking his head.

Serafall was in a state that couldn't be reasoned with. The carefree girl he knew in his childhood had never displayed such a side to her before which goes to show just how strongly she felt on this matter.

Still, he had given his word to Marbas, even if he had remained silent at the end.

Serafall continued to attack again and again, every attempt halted by Ajuka's Kankura Formation and Sirzechs physically blocking her.

"Please!" She pleaded, her gaze then shifting onto Kuro's form.

By now, Kuro had already absorbed over three-quarters of the light. It would all be gone soon and she didn't wish to imagine the conclusion of such a thing.

She didn't have much time left.

Her sudden plea had left both Sirzechs and Ajuka frozen for the two were both Serafall's friends. Her pain and anguish were only fueling their guilt and remorse.

A gap was formed, and Serafall took it, expending all of her power just to do it.

However,

She was too late.

She could only watch helplessly as the last vestiges of God's Light entered Kuro's body and lifted him off the ground, sending him tumbling. The other devils watched in silence, the memory of Shirou trading his life for theirs etched into their minds. This was even more so for Euclid who had been the cause of everything and should have had died.

"Kuro!" Serafall yelled, reaching him as soon as she could.

Her hands trembled as she didn't know where to touch him. H-He was fading away, his skin and bones flaking into mots of black light that drifted into the sky. She swallowed, her mouth dry and no words leaving it.

"Y-You promised," she eventually forced out, forgoing her reservations and picking up Kuro to hold him in her arms.

She stared down at him; at the face of the man she understood had a place within her that could never be replaced. "You are a fool," she said, moisture welling up into her eyes.

"First time I've heard of that in a while," Kuro's voice caused her to stiffen.

He was staring up at her, his eyes not leaving her own even as she sobbed.

"Why?" She eventually asked.

Why had he pushed her away at the last moment? Couldn't he understand that her actions were a result of her own desires? Her lips quivered, her complexion pale.

Shirou didn't respond right away. There were many reasons. One to fulfill his purpose and find out just where the taint of the grail had gone to in the present era, and two because he didn't wish for anyone to die. Most of all, it was for another reason entirely. The one that he would voice out.

"For the sake of an Underworld that all Devils could be proud of, a place without Demons," he said, completing the words that he had not spoken before, his expression relaxing. "For the time of Demons has long since passed."

Serafall shook her head, a hand moving to brush across Kuro's face, but pausing mid way as she feared that her touch would speed up the process of his fading. Already his hands and feet were vanishing.

"It didn't have to be this way," she argued, voice breaking. "You didn't have to die alone."

Shirou's gaze sharpened, expression growing serious. "Serafall Sitri," he said sternly. "Have you forgotten for whose sake you fought for? Would you condemn your younger sister to a life without her elder sibling? As for me," he trailed off.

He didn't have anything left in the Underworld.

But this was a reasoning Serafall would never agree with. If he had nothing than she would have had given him so many things that his hands would grow full just from holding them all. And even if he wasn't satisfied she would do all in her power to make him feel as if he belonged because Kuro deserved all that and more. What kind of life must he have had lived to willingly give his life for others without hesitation? This wasn't fair.

Serafall's teeth clenched together.

"You are a fool," she gritted out, her hands balling into fists that drew blood from her palms.

Tears streaked down Serafall's cheeks, but Shirou hand no hands left to wipe them away, watching silently as they trickled to the bottom of Serafall's chin before dropping over his face.

"I am a fool," he admitted, the feeling of Serafall's tears wetting his face. "But perhaps the Underworld needed a fool."

A wry smile cracked itself over Serafall's face, one filled with wistfulness.

"I never took you for a comedian," she said.

"And I never thought that this was how it would end. Goodbye Serafall, I'm glad to have had met you."

 _And I'm glad to have had loved you,_ the words remained in her mouth, unable to leave for she didn't want to give Kuro any regrets. Nonetheless, she broke down sobbing in despair as his figure disappeared completely from her arms.

It was the final sight Shirou would see as God used the power he had regained to bring them back to the present: the figure of a woman who would cry for him in his death.

He with a life he considered lower than any other felt for the first time that he may have to reconsider some things. Nonetheless, there was another matter to attend to. The solemnness in God's presence that Shirou could feel.

 _"T-The trihexia. I-It went to the seal of the Trihexia."_

Those were the only words he had herd God say, but something told him he would understand the reason for God's solemnity sooner or later.

With that thought in mind, Shirou completely disappeared from the Underworld, leaving behind Serafall who remained alone staring off into space, her tears long since dried an hour ago.

Sirzechs and Ajuka slowly arrived behind her, Falbium and Grayfia arriving next after organizing all the Devils present in the area into orderly groups.

"I won't forgive you," were the first words out of Serafall's mouth directed towards Sirzechs and Ajuka.

"Didn't expect you to," Sirzechs said remorsefully.

Ajuka just remained silent, not saying a word for he knew that there were no words that would fix things.

A silence resounded, Grayfia reaching a hand out towards Serafall but thinking better of it and remaining where she was.

"He's gone," Serafall said after a long moment, the despair and unwillingness in her tone stronger than any magical attack against Sirzechs and Ajuka.

"He's gone yes," Falbium was the first to speak. "It's the passing of a notable leader, the army standard calling for a grand ceremony in his honour."

"Honour?" Serafall said spitefully. "Kuro never wished for any of that. He was a simple man, one who didn't even mind lowering himself to those whose standings were far too minuscule for him to even greet. And he's gone."

"No Serafall," Grayfia interceded, feeling pity both for Sirzechs and Ajuka who couldn't meet Serafall's gaze, and Serafall herself. "Its true that he's gone, but his legacy is not."

Serafall didn't react, Grayfia simply continued.

"The Lands of Marbas."

"The devils he saved."

"And most importantly. You," Grayfia's words finally caused a reaction from Serafall, her shoulders squaring along with her back. "He saved you for a reason Serafall. He was unwilling to see you die. There must have had been a reason for that. Will you simply wallow away as you are now, or will you stand for the Underworld he fought to create?"

Serafall swallowed audibly, but Grayfia's words _had_ given her a purpose. To protect what he helped create.

She stood on her feet, her figure unmoving as she stared unblinkingly at the location of his passing. She would protect it. His Underworld.

"I stand here today as Serafall Leviathan," she said taking on the name of one of the Four Great Satans. "And I vow to protect this Underworld."

Ajuka and Sirzechs stared at each other before coming to a decision.

"I stand here today as Sirzechs Lucifer, and I vow to protect this Underworld."

"I stand here today as Ajuka Beelzebub, and I vow to protect this Underworld."

Grayfia cleared her throat before kicking Falbium forward, prompting him to speak.

"Fine," Falbium murmured, patting the dust off of his clothing before moving to stand in line with Sirzechs, Ajuka, and Serafall.

"I stand here today as Falbium Asmodeus, and I also vow to protect this Underworld."

It was the emergence of the Four Great Satans of the future, all standing proudly at the face of the end of the civil war. Yet there was no happiness to be found.

Slowly, Serafall erected a gravestone, one which she took careful consideration in making directly by hand, her fingers etching the words in the stone.

-He was Marbas, Hero and Last Demon of the Underworld.

* * *

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	27. The Sword and Mysteries: Prologue

A Hero is not a hero because he had saved someone or some thing.

A Hero is only a hero because he or she is acknowledged.

One whose very influence would remain.

* * *

The Fifth District of the Underworld was the location of a supreme defensive formation that had become the haven of all low-class devils in the Civil War between the Old and New Satan Faction: A large dome of energy, rippling with tendrils of magical might that were constantly active around the entire territory. Rumours even spoke that the protective energies of the barrier were the direct result of the unfathomable weapons said to be stored in the pillars that stretched towards the sky.

This rumour had even reached the ears of many of the other Factions, and when investigated, many returned with perturbed expressions. They all weren't able to discern if such weapons existed or not, but they were capable of detecting the divinity that swelled from the pillars in waves of power. Therefore, there was indeed some credulity to the rumours, and when that information had spread it had caused a massive debate both in the Underworld and in the other Factions.

But regardless, no one could take any actions without consideration.

For within the protective barrier was a bustling city of the Underworld.

In fact, it was a capital city now. A location of urbanization that had flourished due to one sole fact.

It was the territory of the fifth Demon of the Ars Goetia.

The lands of Marbas, President of Hell and Lion of the Underworld.

He who was a Hero of not only the Civil War, but of the Underworld itself.

The Lonely Demon who was no longer around.

The sound of her footsteps echoed across the tiled surface of a hall decorated with lavish designs and portraits hung upon the walls of granite and marble. They were of a sole lineage of Devils, proud and dignified as they posed to have their images drawn, and her head lowered once for all of them. For it was a sign of her respect.

The hall was dim, candles mounted and lit every three or so meters and giving off a soft orange hue that produced an air of solemnity.

Her mood dropped as it always had whenever she went to visit this place of mourning for it reminded her of the Lord who had saved her and her mother in her youth. The Kind Lord. A Benevolent Lord.

One who had even taken the time to entertain the ramblings of a child petulant enough to ignore the differences between status.

The mumblings of a young Adelina.

And the results of that man's kindness spoke for itself.

She adjusted the weight of her sword strapped to her back for it was simply too long to fasten on her waist. Made of tempered steel, the stainless blade was sheathed in a black scaffolding decorated with a simple flying swallow etched into the wood. It could be described as mundane, and beneath that of any magically enhanced weapon, but it would be eerily familiar in the eyes of the veterans from the battle of Kalnise Plains. In fact, many would scoff at the ignorance of others to insult such a sword.

For it was a sword whose use was demonstrated first hand by the Last Demon of the Underworld. However, she rarely used it, defaulting instead to the regular broadsword supplied to her by the Sitri Family of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

One reason was because she believed that she was not yet worthy to truly wield the blade crafted in the likeness of her once young Lord but another reason was in consideration for her current King by obligation.

Serafall Leviathan.

Serafall was one of the New Four Great Satans and the owner of the peerage Adelina belonged to by a contract. Adelina was Serafall's Knight, and it wasn't difficult for her to notice the sheer sorrow and pain reflected across Serafall's eyes whenever Adelina deemed it fit to draw forth her Long Blade. It wasn't because she was particularly striking when she did so, it was just because her forms and appearance were just too overwhelmingly similar to Marbas. But it couldn't be helped for her forms and positions were the forms and positions that Marbas had once taught her.

At times, her blade was the spitting image of his, and it was evident that the image Serafall had of Marbas was superimposing with hers as she trained. It didn't help matters much that she dressed in shades of red in respect for Marbas and the Crimson Legion recorded in the magical Library of Dantalion.

And Serafall was suffering in silence because of it.

Therefore, Adelina rarely used the Long Blade created in the likeness of her idol's sword.

She released a breath she didn't know that she had been holding as she arrived before the final portrait in the hall. A depiction of Marbas drawn to the standard of the memories Serafall and many others had of the Last Demon of the Underworld.

He stood standing, expression vacant while staring off into a distant sunrise, his posture languid and head held up with a tilt. It was the kind of expression she could remember him for and it caused her to swallow audibly, a tremble in her hands. When her father was first killed in the Civil War, she had thought that she knew loss and beleived that she would never experience it again. Yet when Serafall had returned to her on that day and told her of Marbas's death in monotone, she experienced it for a second time.

She stopped the trembling of her hands by biting down on her lips, the taste of copper in her mouth distracting her as she renewed her vows and oaths to Marbas and subsequently, Serafall.

After all, Serafall was also the last known Devil to carry the magic crest of Marbas.

It was why in the Capital city of Marbas, Serafall had supreme rule on all matters, and was also why Adelina had allowed herself to work as Serafall's Knight Piece. It was all because of Adelina's unwavering loyalty.

Adelina was perhaps the most devote and loyal to the name of Marbas, the Noble House of the Hero she had preserved within her mind.

Serafall carried the magic crest, therefore Serafall had her loyalty as the only capable successor to the lands of Marbas.

That was all, and that was all that mattered.

She knelt down on her knees and smoothly removed the sword strapped to her back before laying it down horizontally before her.

"It's been several years," she spoke in the silence, her long hair falling past her face as she inclined her head. "I, I'm no longer that low-class Devil of before."

She fell into silence, her mouth closing and brows knitting together.

"I wasn't strong then," she said in reminiscence. "Just a child unable to protect anything. Therefore, would you be proud of me if you saw me now?"

Silence. She wasn't expecting an answer anyway. This was simply her annual ritual.

She closed her mouth and no longer uttered any words, accompanied only by the gentle crackle of scented and burning wicks.

"Thank you," she said after a moment, a tremble in her lips as a surge of emotion welled up from within her. "For what you've taught me, and what you've created. For everything that you've done, I can't thank you enough. I was never really smart for a Devil, and don't really understand the significance of what your existence meant, but to me, you will always be the kind man that delivered a child who could no longer stand back into the arms of her mother. A man who could smile even without self gain."

She pursed her lips.

A man like him.

A man like him shouldn't have had died.

She swallowed down her bitterness and composed herself. There was no longer a need to wallow in self pity and doubt. What mattered was protecting the Underworld in which he left behind. One that was a world where even Low-Class Devils have better treatment. For in the words of Marbas, Low-Class or not, they were all still Devils. The Residents of the Underworld, walkers of the flames of Gehenna.

Her hands moved under the shadows of the candles, drawing forth her blade from its sheath, the gleam of silver reflecting her grey coloured eyes and causing them to glimmer in the dark.

She swung once, and the light of the candled flickered before extinguishing, small trails of smoke leaving behind a lingering smell of ash and soot.

Her feet pushed off of the ground, bringing her body up to a stand along with the sword she swiftly sheathed and strapped behind her. Her visit to pay her respects to the dead were over.

It was time to leave.

Her expression cooled until it appeared indifferent to everything. She was never much of a social person in the first place and the first time she truly ever opened up to anyone was to her parents and mentor, the Great Demon Marbas.

As such, in the case of anything else, she was never really an individual of many words; her indifferent expression a means to ward away others attempting to pester her with useless banter that would only serve to irritate her.

If they had so much time for idle chatter, why did they not use it to hone their own skills?

Her mentor Marbas was the best example. He too was an individual of few words and an impassive expression, but he used most of his time to train or use his actions to speak for himself. He was her role model, and until the point in her life where she met him, she never could have had imagined a Devil of higher standing aiding Devils of the lowest standing.

He was a leader of the Underworld like none other.

She took a step forward followed by another as she made her way out of the mausoleum created in honour of the Marbas bloodline and returned to a bustling street.

The Lands of Marbas had become something better known as the City of Marbas. The homes that were once made of brick, tile, and thatch replaced by smooth concrete, steel, and paint polished over with a layer of finish to lacquer over the wood used as furnishing.

The difference from the home of her childhood, and her present home of now were worlds apart, but she had long since grown used to it no matter how jarring it was that the change had occurred in only a short number of years.

She walked down the streets, ignoring the stares that locked onto her not just because of her frost-like beauty, but because of her current rank as a Devil. She was of the Ultimate Class, her rise becoming something of a legend amongst those of lower standing.

She, a devil of the lower-class had achieved the ranking of an Ultimate Class despite lacking the required magical energy. In rough standards, she could barely even be counted as a High-Class Devils when comparing magical aptitude and capability, but she had made up for a whole difference in rank based on her sword-skills alone. In fact, the only individual in the current Underworld she believed could contend with her was Okita Souji, a man within Sirzechs Lucifer's peerage.

Her lips thinned while thinking about the challenge she had issued against that particular swordsman that was still left unanswered.

Her thinned lips shifted into a frown as she pondered. She was certain that the man wasn't afraid of her, but for some reason her challenges were being ignored. From a swordsman wishing to test their skills against another swordsman, she was growing increasingly frustrated as she struggled to achieve the perfection she had seen on that day in the hands of Marbas.

Nonetheless, her personal issues aside, she was almost to her designated location.

She glanced up, staring at a nearby clock and inadvertently noticed one of the Underworld's current sources of entertainment.

It was a love story written in a book and even acted out in plays.

It was of a man and a woman on opposite sides of a war who fell in love with each other after numerous confrontations.

It was the love story of the then Sirzechs Gremory and Grayfia Lucifuge in the Civil War of the Underworld.

Of course, Adelina herself had heard the story numerous times as the Underworld was still lacking in entertainment values when compared to the humans on earth. Like many in the Underworld, she found the story to be uplifting and warm hearted. A tale of a forbidden love that had been able to reach fruition to the point where Grayfia had even become Sirzechs's Queen.

Yet all tales had their contrast.

It was just that many in the Underworld disliked how bleak that contrast was and chose to neglect it.

If Sirzechs and Grayfia was the story of a happy ending.

Then Serafall's and Marbas was the story of a tragedy.

It was a sad tale that began like all happy stories where a boy meets a girl, and Adelina herself was directly included in the story. For she was the little girl that followed the teachings of the protagonist.

A happy time it had been, Adelina smiled wistfully, thinking back on the memories of her childhood, yet feeling bitter inside.

Serafall was said to have had experienced love for the first time, something that no suiter found by the Sitri family could ever achieve. For Marbas, she had even delayed her arrival to the front line just to stay by his side, and when she did return, she returned with the Legions of the Underworld in tow, bringing victory in a battle that was almost certain defeat.

It was never known what Marbas truly felt for Serafall, but many in the Underworld speculated that he loved her back. Why else would he marry her without a second thought? Why else would he exchange his magic crest without hesitation in a show of a joining between two Noble families? Most of all, Marbas had given his life for Serafall's, throwing her back just to keep her from killing herself.

Yet that was the crux of the tragedy.

Marbas had died, making a love that should have had been, mean nothing but a lonely existence.

One of the Sitri Family's greatest regrets was Serafall's appearance as she arrived back from the Civil War and straight into a grand banquet made in her and Marbas's honour. She had stood rooted in place, her tattered and dirt smeared clothing left uncleaned and ruffled even as the calmness of her expression literally broke down. She had swallowed, a tremble starting from her lips that made its way across her face and made it impossible for her to keep her composure. She had begun to sob, trails of tears slowly trickling down her pale cheeks that she tried to wipe away yet was unable to because they simply wouldn't stop. Looking at the reception in front of her, it had been all the more painful for Serafall when she remembered that everything before her was meant not just for her, but Kuro as well; the promise Kuro had made playing endlessly throughout her head.

Adelina wasn't present for the scene, but many of the other young Nobles of the other families of the Seventy-Two Pillars were there and invited as guests. All had seen what had transpired on that day.

Serafall Leviathan, one of the New Four Great Satans had been gently taken away in the arms of her mother.

And this was how the story of Serafall and Marbas ended.

A tragedy where only Serafall was the one to remain.

Marbas, the Last Demon and Hero of the Underworld, a casualty of the Civil War.

Lost in her thoughts, Adelina only noticed that she had arrived at her destination after seeing the statue of Marbas before her created by the Low-class Devils and original inhabitants of the Lands of Marbas. It was made of granite and polished stone decorated with magical paint that gave the statue a certain life-like aesthetic.

Adelina however, never found it very pleasing for she understood Marbas's personality. Her young Lord had never liked using luxury on himself. This alone was already evident by the fact that when he had first saved her and the others, he didn't live in _any_ of the shelters he had helped build. Instead, he rested in the forest without shelter, siting down with his back against a tree without complaint.

She shook her head as her personal thoughts on how others revered her mentor wasn't something that she should complain about.

Instead, she entered the building before her, the place where Serafall was meant to handle her work as one of the New Four Great Satans. As expected though, Serafall wasn't present in the main office.

Serafall was somewhat like Falbium in some ways. Of course, Serafall wasn't as lazy but she wouldn't hesitate to abandon her responsibilities when something came up. More than likely, Serafall's absence had something to do with her younger sister, Sona Sitri. The one individual Serafall was too overprotective of much like the Crimson Satan Sirzechs and his younger sister, Rias Gremory.

Adelina sighed, making her way towards the desk she could clearly see still had a massive pile of paperwork to sort through regarding policies and relations with the other pantheons.

Methodically, Adelina got to work.

When Serafall was out, it landed on her to finish everything left behind. Therefore, it can be said that Adelina had become proficient in this regard. She was Serafall's Knight and this too could be considered as part of her duties.

Only this time, something gave her pause.

It was a floating scroll sent by a magic seal that was clearly overlooked by Serafall as it was still left unopen by the furthermost side of the desk behind the piles of paperwork. Serafall had probably neglected it for the same reason that she was currently absent.

What a troublesome King she had, Adelina complained inwardly as she removed the restrictions on the scroll within the magic seal and took it within her hands.

Her brows raised unwittingly as she recognized the scroll for what it was upon close inspection.

 _A Family Registry?_

She thought in befuddlement.

Like Serafall, Adelina knew Sona to be an intellectual Devil. Sona wouldn't have sent a Family registry to the office of one of the New Four Great Satans without a reason.

The Family Registry itself was a simple scroll that was first introduced at the end of the Civil War by the Old Duke Dantalion to keep a record of the descendants of the Seventy-Two Pillars that remained. After all, it was a direct result of the Great War and the Civil War that some of the descendants of the Seventy-Two Pillars were wiped out of existence.

As the family of the Demon of the Ars Goetia known to harbour the magical library of all knowledge, the head of the Dantalion Family tasked himself with making the registry.

Its function was relatively simple and direct. It had gathered all the remaining Noble Families of the Ars Goetia and had them touch the registry to react with the depicted magic crests drawn within. If one was of the blood of the specific magic crest, it would glow with a dull light proving that the family line of that particular Family had not yet been extinguished. Alternatively, if the symbol of the Noble Family was faded, it meant that that family had already perished.

The question now was why Sona would send such a thing as the families of the Ars Goetia that remained had already been recorded.

Curious, Adelina unraveled the scroll, the dull glow of a plethora of magic crests lighting up her features.

Almost instantly, it felt as if someone had punched her in the gut; her hands crinkling the parchment of the family registry and threatening to tear it apart.

Her composure shattered away, her lips pursing together as her eyes narrowed, looking piercingly at the glowing magic crest before her numerous times.

She grew stiff, almost frozen due to her own intensity, finally, she let out a choked gasp. One of disbelief yet filled with a hope that she had not known for a number of years.

Immediately, she activated a magic seal on her person, one only used in the direst of circumstances to make sure that Serafall wouldn't ignore her summons.

For this matter was too important to her.

There lying flat on Serafall's work table was the Family Registry of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

A magic seal that had once been faded and blackened, was now glowing with a crimson light.

It was the symbol of the twin keys and the knower of all truths.

The magic crest of the fifth Demon of the Ars Goetia.

The very same symbol of the Hero of the Underworld.

It was the Magic Crest of Marbas.

* * *

Serafall had been feeling as if something was wrong from the very moment she had chosen to leaver her office and shirk off her responsibilities for Adelina to handle. Nonetheless, she had left for what she believed was an apt cause.

Her little sister, Sona Sitri may have had found her destined other, and Serafall would be damned if she didn't get a proper look at the man.

Even if Serafall herself was left hollow with her own love interest, she didn't want a similar thing to occur with her younger sister. Ever since Kuro died, Sona had become one of the only people she loved dearly and she used Sona as a lifeline to keep herself from wallowing away in a pit of self pity and despair. That and losing herself in her work to protect that which he had left behind.

The emptiness in her heart caused by his absence would never truly heal, and she knew it. That was why the best she could do was busy herself with the concerns of others. Just like Kuro had when he had taken her dreams of the Civil War and made them ever grander.

It was all because of Kuro again.

His absent words, his remarks, forever preserved in her memories.

She closed her eyes, forcing down any emotion that would cause her to feel like sobbing and brought forth the bubbly personality she had grown used to personifying before opening her eyes once more.

"~The first wife?" She said candidly, staring across at the girl who had literally walked in to the current meeting to discuss Sona's future partner. "~Well I suppose the order doesn't really matter."

The girl appeared to be slightly younger than Sona's age, with strikingly blue hair and a green highlight hidden within the soft flowing locks. She was beautiful, not losing out even in Devil standards with a lithe figure and an ample bosom that was barely able to be contained by the jacket worn over her shoulders. From her stance, to her confrontational glower, Serafall was able to identify immediately that Sona had competition to deal with.

"Mrs. Quarta," Michael was the first to speak after Xenovia's outburst. There was a slight pause in his voice, but Serafall noticed the way his expression brightened enough to let her know that his mood had improved with Xenovia's arrival. "Take a seat, this a very delicate matter."

Serafall closed her mouth and allowed Michael to do as he wished. To begin with, this entire meeting was a result of her own selfishness in forcing the matter. Oddly enough, Michael and Gabriel had acceded to her request only because of some particular circumstance Serafall could speculate had required them to use a substantial amount of power. Thus, she had had the higher ground in the negotiations. Yet Serafall would never press an advantage given the current state of affairs and the peace talks. Threatening a potential partner was never a good idea in the long term anyway. Therefore, a meeting was eventually arranged after some debate which Sirzechs got involuntarily mixed up in, leading to the current situation.

Hearing Michael's voice, Xenovia bowed in Michael and Gabriel's direction before sitting down on a designated seat. It was only then that Irina appeared next, having ran after Xenovia.

"I, ugh, um, sorry?" Irina said bashfully when all attention fell on her.

Gabriel only smiled and gestured for Irina to also take a seat.

Irina did so meekly, feeling both stifled and awed at being able to sit in the presence of Michael and Gabriel of the Seraphim.

"Now then," Serafall cleared her throat, a hand moving to flatten the wrinkles that had formed on her magical girl outfit composed of a pink two-piece set of a skirt and a tank-top. "~Where were we?"

"On the matter of your proposal," Gabriel chuckled, her appearance bewitching. "I refuse. How could I possibly accept when you don't even understand the significance of your proposal?"

Serafall was far from convinced with Gabriel's words, partly because she had never been able to get along with Heaven's most beautiful Angel to begin with. As such, how could she be sure that what Gabriel had said had any credibility to it. It was true that she had heard from Tsubaki that the man who had defeated Sona in a game of chess was part of Heaven's faction, but that didn't really matter. In fact, with the peace talks, inter faction marriage would only strengthen ties. Therefore, Serafall couldn't see what the problem was. Especially when she had asked Tsubaki how Sona felt for the man who had beaten her, and only got an ambiguous answer as a reply. This was more than enough to convince her that Sona must have had felt _something_ for she had always been rather direct when it came to marriage. She either liked the man or she didn't. An ambiguous answer was unheard of.

"Significance?" Serafall said, a smile playing on her face. "I'm certain that this situation shouldn't actually be that much of a big deal. To begin with, I didn't actually think that this matter would require representatives from both Heaven and the Underworld's Factions."

"Well you thought wrong," Xenovia said, her arms crossing. "The only one who can decide who he marries is Shirou himself."

"A true answer," Michael nodded in approval. "Therefore, there's not much meaning in this meeting any longer."

"Is that so?" Serafall's expression grew serious. After all, this decision may mean her younger sister's future happiness. Yet she knew that she couldn't insist any further for Michael's words were words used to end the conversation.

It didn't help that Sirzechs was also gesturing for her to back down. She frowned. Was there something here that she didn't know? Did the man Sona fancied be someone of a high position in the Heaven Faction?

A part of her didn't really care about all those meaningless things, but she always had to be considerate when it involved the livelihood of the Underworld. However, she couldn't let this matter rest so easily.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, she stiffened visibly, goosebumps running down her skin and causing her hairs to raise. A magic circle that stemmed from the back of her palm flashed with a dull blue light near the seal of Marbas that Kuro had granted upon her.

 _Adelina._

Serafall's lips thinned. Adelina would never actively contact her unless the situation was dire or it concerned the city of Marbas. In any case, she wouldn't tolerate any of the choices. She may appear bubbly and carefree, but there were some things that she would take with the utmost of seriousness. Anything related to Kuro was within that category.

She stood up, her expression blank. "Unfortunately, some matters have turned up that I must attend to," she said, an air of coldness around her that caused Sirzechs to blink.

For a moment, Sirzechs was reminded of the woman he had known in the Civil War. One who could be ruthless towards her enemies.

Evidently, Michael and Gabriel sensed something too and allowed Serafall to leave under Xenovia and Irina's gazes.

None knowing that when Serafall would return next, there would be a major development.

* * *

When he had arrived back at the present, it was to the same room he had been in before his departure. Everything looked the same as it had been before, and it was only the slightest differences in the hour hand of the clock on the wall that let him know that he had hardly been gone for long. An entire journey through time in the underworld, and only two hours had passed in the present. It was almost too hard to believe.

 _"_ _The flow of time has always been hard to predict,"_ God's voice sounded in his head. _"A past event may run faster than a future one due to the many branches that could form as a result of altering the past. Something that you've already done."_

He heard God's voice but didn't reply back because he knew that God was only speaking the truth. What mattered to him now was just to make sure that everything hadn't changed too much because of his actions.

The fact that he had arrived in the same room of his departure with barely any changes in the environment was a good sign in his opinion.

He stood up and absently began inspecting his surroundings until he was satisfied and returned to a seated position.

"Did you find out what you were looking for?" He broached the matter he didn't bring himself to ask God in the Underworld due to a lack of time. "And what's the Trihexia?"

 _"_ _The Beast of the Apocalypse, the Trihexia,"_ God said solemnly, almost as if God was at a loss for words. _"When I was absorbing my past strength, I was able to distinguish just where it was that the taint of the Grail had gone to in this present era. And it's far from good. It's the worst possible situation."_

"Is it that bad?" He asked, brows furrowing together.

 _"_ _More than you would know. It will take everything we have and more to right the wrongs of my past, and to do so would require the help of the others that I would rather not have to deal with. Then again, the situation leaves us with no choice."_

"Is there something that I should do?"

 _"_ _None that you alone can do at the moment, but there will be something in the future. For now, it's best to discuss some things with Michael before proceeding with anything."_

With that, God fell silent in a state of contemplation, leaving Shirou alone to himself.

He sighed, his eyes clouding over as he thought back to the image he had seen at his supposed death. It was his happiness to save others. To experience what Kiritsugu had when he himself had been saved. As such, he hardly had any regard for his own well being, believing that so long as he saved the individual, all would be well. Yet, from the despair he had seen in Serafall's eyes, he wasn't so sure anymore.

It was more of a personal issue than something he really had to debate over, but a part of him was already placing more importance behind his own life just so he wouldn't have to see such a sight again: An image where it looked like the person he had saved would rather die than be alive.

His hands clenched into fists, a resolve forming from within him to prevent such a thing from happening again.

He stood up on his feet, restless and unable to remain where he was seated on a recliner.

It was true that he had once said that he wouldn't step out of the house in the current timeline to avoid trouble, but he couldn't remain still.

He fooled himself by believing that he was only going out to verify that the changes he had made weren't too major, but unexpectedly he ran into a person he was familiar with almost immediately.

Sona Sitri stared at him with peculiarity, not knowing how she wasn't able to see the resemblance Shirou had to one of the Underworld's greatest Heroes. If not for the colour of his skin tone and the lack of black tribal markings, he would be almost identical to the Demon recorded in the Magical Library of Dantalion.

Regardless, she had only gone out for a walk to avoid whatever situation her sister was causing in Kuoh. However, she never would have had expected that her walk would lead her to the man who was the source of all commotion.

She had a lot of words to say at the moment, but only a few seemed suitable.

Any notion Shirou had had about not changing anything too major in the timeline were subsequently blown away.

"You," Sona said slowly, her face scrunching up in concern.

"Are in a very complicated situation," she said directly.

* * *

 **Thanks for Reading!**

 **Note: I have just started my portion of field work in the co-op I'm doing so I will be sporadically in and out of wifi depending on my assigned location during the days. As such, I can't guarantee update stability for the next week and there may be delays that I can't help. Thanks for understanding.**

 **P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious**


	28. The Sword and Mysteries: Part 1

Honestly speaking, she couldn't understand why it was that she had been so careless.

A sigh escaped Sona's lips, the subtle motion producing a warm breath that became a misty vapour in the cold fall-season air even if it had only lasted for a moment.

 _It was inconceivable to her._

Her past actions weren't how her usual self would have had reacted, especially considering the confidentiality and significance of the matter she had so carelessly handled. The name Marbas was iconic in the Underworld. Practically no Devil born before or after the Civil War wouldn't have had heard of that name. More so for her and the Sitri family, because it was personal.

If Marbas hadn't died in the end of the Civil War to save the Underworld from the unimaginable power of God's Light, then more than likely, he would have had become the son-in-law of the Sitri family, no;

Sona shook her head.

He already had.

The proof of that itself existed in the form of the Magic Crest of the Lion and Keeper of Truths marked on the back of Serafall's hands. For all intents and purposes, Marbas was a Lord of both his family and the Sitri Family. It was why Marbas's name was enshrined by Allon in the Sitri Family's ancestral tomb.

Marbas had been Serafall's husband, and that alone was enough to validate such an action. However, what it meant was that a young widow had been left behind. One who hadn't even passed her teenage years by the end of the Civil War.

It was enough to get Sona to despair.

No matter how annoying Sona found her elder sister to be, they both wanted what was best for the other. In which case, both sisters already knew without asking what would make the other truly happy. For Sona, it was the accomplishment of her dream to be a teacher amongst Devils and in turn, help foster the next generation. This was something that wasn't out of reach and could be accomplished with the Sitri family's resources and the backing of one of the New Four Great Satans, her elder sister. However, Serafall would never again have a chance to attain her happiness.

Serafall's dream of creating an Underworld Sona could live in had already been achieved and more. The current Underworld was an Underworld that all Devils could be proud of, and yet it was an Underworld without him. Serafall's situation could be described in a simple sentence. Her dreams had been achieved, yet her happiness was forever gone; all her efforts going to protect what he had left behind and meddling in the business of her younger sister.

Yet perhaps more important than everything else was the fact that Marbas was the undisputed and recognized future heir of the Underworld that mattered.

He should have had been a King.

A Sovereign that would have had ushered in an age of prosperity the likes of which had never been seen since the original Seventy-Two Pillars as said by her sister.

Although she was skeptical of such words considering the violent temperaments of Demons, she still trusted her sister more than literary works.

Though Marbas had died, he had still been the Leader of the Underworld if only for a moment.

A leader that had had no opposition to his rule even on the side of the Old Satan Faction. Therefore, like the original descendants of the Four Great Satans, the descendants of Marbas also had a right to rule, given the approval of the majority of all Devils.

She stared at Shirou's stiff expression after her words were spoken but didn't think too much about it as he was probably just concerned about any implications. As such, she would never have had known that he himself was the root of the problem.

After all, when Sona had first sent the Family Registry to the Underworld to her Sister's office, it was in the pretence of discovering a member of a deceased Noble Family with no further trivialities. Subsequently, with Shirou's meddling in the time line, the action Sona had done which shouldn't have had created any implications, suddenly had many.

Sona pinched the bridge of her nose and lamented in silence. It wouldn't be long before her elder sister would discover the information she had sent, and by then everything would become unpredictable. Considering the importance of the upcoming Peace Talks to all factions, unpredictability was the least favourable of all outcomes and she knew this.

Luckily, Sona had only sent the Family Registry and had yet to write a letter on the matter. Thus, even if her elder sister obtained the family registry she had sent, it wouldn't inform her elder sister of anything substantial about the person it was related to unless her elder sister got the answer from Sona herself.

"C-Complicated?" Shirou's voice appeared to be in a fluster, an unease appearing in his eyes.

She nodded her head, the motion carrying a trace of solemnity.

"Admittedly though, I am partly to blame for this which is why it is fortunate that we've met at this time," Sona bowed her head, a frown on her face evident as she speculated of what was to come.

"I'm sorry," she then said, confusing Shirou greatly.

"What's there to be sorry for?" Shirou asked. To be fair, he didn't know what Sona had done before his trip to the past Underworld.

Instead of replying through words, Sona pulled out another Family Registry and rolled it open. The thing about Duke Dantalion's Family Registry was that when one Family Registry was updated, all would be updated to maintain efficiency and reduce misinformation.

There on the Family Registry was the glowing Magic Crest of Marbas. Something Shirou knew all too well for he was the one to constantly use it.

"…" He had no words, perhaps because he had nothing to say, but more likely because he wanted to deny what was in front of him.

"During the end of our chess game together, you had accidently laid hands on this Family Registry," Sona began, a finger tapping against her crossed arms. "Subsequently, your touch reacted with the Magic Crest of Marbas, a Noble Family of the Seventy-Two pillars of the Underworld that had gone extinct after the Wars."

Shirou's expression fell, his eyes drooping and mouth opening subconsciously.

"You are very likely a descendant of Marbas, the very same Family and Noble Pillar that the Hero and Lion of the Underworld belonged to," Sona stated without blinking, the surety of her tone unmistakable. "That, or you were a love-child of the Hero Marbas no one ever knew about, but it's unlikely."

No, Shirou almost said. For he wasn't a descendant of himself. He _was_ Marbas.

But he couldn't voice any words of opposition. He simply had no explanation that was believable.

Seeing that Shirou was remaining silent, Sona continued with her words.

"Generally, this fact shouldn't have been something so complicated. In fact, it would have had been a moment of rejoice for the Underworld due to the return of another Noble Pillar, but unfortunately this situation is different."

Sona's eyes narrowed, the gentle knitting of her brows a clear sign of the storm brewing within her.

"You are God, or at the very least, are a part of him. His image that appeared on that day against Kokabiel was unmistakable. No one other than God would ever have had been able to make the battle-crazed Morning Star of Heaven yield along with his followers with simple words and actions. But this is the problem in itself."

Sona closed her mouth and uncrossed her arms, a thumb placing itself beneath her chin as she clicked her tongue.

"Heaven will not allow the Underworld to take you, and the Underworld will not allow Heaven to keep the descendant of a Family belonging to a National Hero," Sona's hands fell to her side and balled into fists. "More specifically, my sister would _never_ allow it. More so if she ever saw your face."

Shirou was the spitting image of Marbas. Everything about his appearance was the same, and if not for Shirou's lighter skin tone and lack of black tribal marks, then the two would have had been identical.

This was dangerous.

Too dangerous to leave alone.

Shirou had already come in contact with Sirzechs and the man was bound to notice the sheer resemblance. However, Sona was also certain that Sirzechs wouldn't reveal it to anyone else other than perhaps Ajuka. Knowing Serafall as Sirzechs did, he wasn't certain that she would be able to see the bigger picture in leu of the emotions that seeing Shirou's face would bring. In which case, Heaven and the Underworld would never be able to come to an agreement and the Peace Talks would be ruined as a result. Worse, a war may even start.

The followers of Marbas born during the Civil War of the Underworld was not a small number. In fact, their numbers were overwhelming as it was composed of the numerous low-class devils of the time period of the Civil War in which many of them had ranked up through the years.

Adelina Swiftblade was one example, and she was of an Ultimate Class among many others.

It wasn't an underestimation to say that over half of the Underworld was under Marbas's influence, giving them a means to start another war. And Serafall would lead it when confrontation eventually came with Heaven.

Therefore, Sona knew that it would be best if Serafall either never saw Shirou, or that she would only see him after the Peace Talks had concluded such that no decisive actions could be taken.

Of course, all these precautions could prove unnecessary.

Sona pursed her lips, an unwilling expression on her face.

A part of her wanted to believe that her sister would understand what it was that she should do, but the rational part of her mind didn't want to leave anything to chance. Not when it concerned everyone she cared about. It was why she hadn't even told Rias about her conclusions.

Yet perhaps more than anything was the part of her that had come up with her own conjectures.

Something that was entirely possible, but untestable.

When Serafall had described to her about the death of the Underworld's greatest Hero, it had been a clashing between the power of God and the power of a Demon.

A light of purity vs the darkness of malice.

A power that cleanses, and one that taints.

Sona had assumed that Shirou was a descendant of Marbas solely because she had excluded the possibility that she had first devised. What would happen should a Demon be cleansed by God's Light? The obvious outcome was death, but in her readings of the other various pantheons including Buddhism, another means could exist.

Shirou was human.

Not a Demon, and not a Holy Angel.

From a certain perspective in Catholicism, to be human was to be neutral considering that the Earth had always been the middle ground between Heaven and Hell. Thus, if she took God's Light as the strength of Heaven, and Marbas's Demonic Taint as the strength of Hell, then the clashing of polar opposites would end in neutrality.

Thus, a Human.

Shirou was a Human.

And Marbas had been a Demon bathed in the Light of God.

Their appearances were identical, their selflessness similar based on the stories Xenovia had shared and the stories Sona had grown up listening to by her elder sister.

Therefore, just what if, by some chance, Shirou and Marbas were the same person?

Buddhism spoke of Reincarnation, and all pantheons that existed in the present era had power in their beliefs. Odin the All Father, Zeus of Olympus, and even Buddha were all examples of the powerhouses of the various pantheons that currently existed.

Power existed in belief.

Reincarnation was a possibility.

Yet it was a possibility Sona couldn't accept. For Reincarnation was in the jurisdiction of Buddhism and other pantheons, and they wouldn't overstep their boundaries by meddling into the affairs of Heaven and the Underworld. Even then, if they truly had overstepped their bounds, it would be a nightmare of complications and heated emotions.

She shook her head despite the unease she was feeling in her gut.

Shirou was simply a descendant. That had to be what it was. For if he was actually Marbas, she wouldn't know how she would be able to meet her sister's gaze and lie to her the sake of the Peace Talks.

"You have to hide," was the only conclusion Sona could come up with in the end despite knowing it wouldn't be solving anything.

"You expect me to hide?" Shirou asked incredulously.

Ever since Heaven had discovered God's existence, they had always kept him in constant care and supervision such that nothing would ever happen to him. It was an overprotectiveness born from the feeling of regaining something thought to have had been lost forever.

"Yes, just until the conclusion of the Peace Talks and now would be your only chance," Sona said with confidence. "Most of the Angels under Michael and Gabriel are currently occupied with another matter that you don't have to concern yourself with. Now go."

Without even giving Shirou any time to agree, Sona patted his back and pushed him forward towards the direction of a side alley and quickly ran off in another direction; her expression strained as the Sitri Magic Crest flashed before her eyes.

She didn't need to answer to know who was calling.

She paused near a park a kilometer away from Kuoh Academy and tentatively touched her glowing magic crest after a breath.

"Sona," a voice spoke directly into her mind, gentle yet forced. "We need to talk."

* * *

Generally speaking, the city around Kuoh Academy was actually fairly large with buildings of steel and concrete spanning the majority of its urbanized zones. Furthermore, the alleyways and backends of numerous establishments created a winding network of uncharted pathways not recorded on mainstream maps, making it easy for one to get lost in them.

This was the current case for Irina.

She sighed for the umpteenth time today and heavily regretted her decision to leave by herself after Michael had asked Xenovia to stay for a moment in Kuoh. She had just been so excited over the words Gabriel had said to her that she just couldn't keep still, and low and behold her current situation.

Her lips quivered from her anxiety. She was sure that she had already passed this same alley almost an hour ago after she had decided to take the shortcut through the business areas that Issei had told her about in passing.

Japan, O Japan. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

To be fair, she had been just like Xenovia and had grown used to spending her life in small isolated churches built alongside nature in Italy. As such, the crowded streets and blaring lights in the night and day of the Urbanized world were still a tad jarring for her to navigate through.

She almost felt like crying for just like a child, she had gotten lost due to her own excitement and impatience. If she had just taken the main road full of people then she could have had just asked for directions.

Yet in these dark alleys, there was barely anyone, and even then, they were gruff and would shrug of her questions without much care.

"O Lord, grant me deliverance," she finally prayed, her hands clasping together as she fell onto her knees.

Silence, a black cat with two tails staring at her oddly from atop a dumpster can before slinking off into the shadows.

She simply looked too pitiful, and in her time of need, a saviour then appeared.

"Irina?" Shirou called, causing Irina's eyes to brighten and face to flush red.

"O thank you Lord for answering my prayers," Irina said, scrambling onto her feet and clinging onto Shirou like a lifeline.

Confused, Shirou could only wrap his arms around Irina until she composed herself enough to finally let go and laugh awkwardly at her own behaviour.

"Sorry," Irina apologized, the redness of her cheeks flaring as she recalled her actions, her lips pursing together.

"No, I didn't really mind it," Shirou said absently, his thoughts still preoccupied by Sona's words.

It wasn't the words themselves that concerned him. It was the thought of what he would do when he eventually met with the face of the woman who had cried for him in his supposed death. How exactly was he supposed to react to that other than realizing that his life may have had been more importance than he believed?

No answer was coming to him at the moment. Therefore, Sona's proposition was actually being considered. He would just hide it out until the end of the Peace Talks and delay the matter. Michael and Gabriel shouldn't to too concerned either as he had left a note of his absence for them with Xenovia. Or at least when Xenovia eventually got to it.

After Sona had pushed him into the alleyways and urged him to hide, the first thing he did was return to his residence to leave a message for Xenovia to convey for him on the countertop. He had then returned to the alleyways looking for a suitable place to hide in a manner similar to what Taiga had once taught him about the back streets of Japan.

Unexpectedly, he had run into Irina.

He scratched his head, not knowing what to do anymore as he couldn't just let Irina leave and reveal his location. With God within him, he should have had been untraceable as God could counter whatever means the Devils or Angels had of tracking him down by magic, and yet if Irina were to tell anyone of his location, detection magic wouldn't even be necessary anymore. Instead, the search would turn into something more traditional: building up a group of individuals and having them search a designated area.

By then, it wouldn't matter if God could hide his presence from detection by magical means or not. Sight would work just as well.

"I-Irina," he began in a stutter. "What exactly are you doing here?"

Silence, one that was only disturbed by the muffled sound of scurrying rats.

"I got lost," Irina said eventually, head lowered. "I was supposed to cut a straight line through somewhere here to get to the main street on a task from Lady Gabriel."

Shirou raised a brow before pointing behind him.

"You mean the one over there?" He asked.

Irina lifted her head, and her face almost instantly grew rigid at the sight of a bustling street filled with cars and people in the direction specified.

"A-All this time," she muttered, lips trembling pitifully. It was almost as if she was about to bawl.

Shirou shook his head, still undecided about what he was going to do, but suddenly forced into action anyway.

A girl stood before him and Irina, her head tilted and long black hair framing the sides of her face. Her arrival was as if she had appeared from out of nowhere, yet Shirou knew otherwise.

The girl had been there from the very start. There was no indication of an arrival, no sound, and no tremor in her steps. From the moment Irina had clung onto him, to the moment the girl finally decided to reveal her appearance, the girl was almost undetectable.

 _An existence that was hard to comprehend._

Although the black Goth-Lolita dress she wore gave her a cute appearance, something told him that the girl in front of him was exceedingly powerful. Her ability to hide her presence alone was enough of an indication, and yet, the same thing could be said for him.

The girl stared at Shirou up and down in curiosity. To her, Shirou felt familiar in some way, and anyone she thought was familiar could only be an individual with a power and lifespan similar to hers. Yet looking at him, she didn't feel the slightest indication of a mighty aura. Then again, her own aura was the same with it being suppressed.

"Who are you?" She asked, the naivety of her voice catching Shirou off guard. However, it was all God needed within Shirou to understand just who the girl before them was, a dim aura of light revealing God's surprise.

The girl's eyes narrowed sharply, the Holy Aura she had felt for but a moment solidifying her feeling of familiarity.

Yet she didn't have any companions in her life of solitude, let alone any names that came to her mind.

Still, she waited hopefully for an answer.

 _"Be weary. This is not an individual you can currently face,"_ God's voice entered Shirou's head, causing him to grow serious.

Uncaring of Irina's reaction, he pulled her behind him and stood opposed to the girl in Goth-Lolita whose head still remained tilted to the side.

"You won't tell me?" The girl's face was expressionless yet it appeared as if she didn't want to attack.

His brows knitted together, yet seeing that there was no hostility between them, he answered.

"Shirou," he said, causing the girl to nod in satisfaction.

"Are you strong?" She then asked next.

He felt Irina's grip on his arm tighten as she was sending him questioning glances, she, unsure of what exactly was going on. Still, he ignored her. He had to put all his attention on a being that may be more than his match, for his current strength wasn't something to laugh at. If she was stronger than him, then all the more reason for him to be careful.

He didn't answer her question, but the girl seemed to have had already come to her own conclusions.

"Will you help me?" She asked, the tone of her voice making it evident that she was pleading.

"Help you?" Shirou's lips thinned as hesitation flashed across his eyes.

The girl shook her head and didn't answer any further. Instead, she began to walk away at a pace that made it clear that she wanted him to follow.

"I just want to go home," were the only words she said; the sadness in her tone more than enough to cause Shirou's feet to move on their own, Irina right behind him.

It didn't matter if God said to be weary. What mattered was that he understood the honesty in the girl's words, and that she didn't appear to be an individual that was evil.

In fact, she was better described as someone honest yet naïve enough to turn her back on a person she deemed powerful.

He paused in his steps, Irina bumping into his back and releasing a muffled grunt.

There was still something that he needed to know.

"Who are you?" He asked.

The girl in black Goth-Lolita froze mid-step, her emotionless face parting into a smile that could be described as beautiful as she could sense that Shirou wasn't denying her.

"I'm a Dragon," she said. "One of infinity, and the Dragon of Ouroboros,"

"My name is Ophis."

* * *

Agreeing to help was one thing but being left alone with a friend in a place he had no idea about whatsoever was another.

Shirou's lip twitched as he and Irina stood in a place that neither of the two understood how they had gotten into. It was an entirely separate dimensional space that contained a villa situated upon a high cliff and surrounded by growing vegetation and trees.

His brows furrowed.

There was no changing his decision from the moment Ophis latched onto his arm in delight. It wasn't that he was disturbed about shattering the happiness he could feel from Ophis's aura, it was just that once she had latched onto him, he _couldn't_ get out.

Her appearance was simply too deceiving, her arm strength alone making it impossible for him to shake off her grip.

It was in that state that Ophis had lead them around the alley until they reached a location with a faintly glowing magical circle that all three of them had stepped into. However, when next he got a hold of his senses, it was only him and Irina in their current location at the base of the cliff; the villa a long distance away with a path paved from stone leading up to it.

"Where exactly are we?" Irina's voice came from his side.

It was evident that she was nervous, but her expression was still composed.

He had no answer for her and simply shook his head, watching the way Irina pursed her lips and asked nothing more. There was no use in asking questions that neither of the two could answer anyway.

Instead, the two just readied themselves, Irina placing a hand on the pommel of the sword she kept strapped to her waist and hidden beneath her white cloak.

It wasn't a Holy Sword on the level of an Excalibur Fragment, but it was because of this that she ended up placing more time on technique rather than power in her sword style. Something that Shirou noticed almost immediately from the history he was able to see from any sword.

His impression of Irina went up. After not being able to obtain a fragment of Excalibur in the Holy Sword Trails, she had not given up in finding other ways to grow stronger. Unlike Xenovia who had two Durandals to wield, Irina's equipment was vastly inadequate in comparison. Yet Irina was still able to be partnered by Xenovia's side, the two even complimenting each other in the missions that they had done.

"You've worked hard," he couldn't help but blurt out such words in admiration because in a way, he could see himself in her.

A time when he was striving to become strong enough to fight by Saber's side, unwilling to see someone he cared about being placed in danger on his behalf.

Perhaps understanding what exactly he was complimenting, Irina glanced down at the ground demurely, unwilling to meet his honest gaze and fingers fiddling with the hem of the skirt she wore beneath the cloak.

"T-Thank you," she said, feeling a warmth within her for having her perseverance acknowledged.

In a way, she had always seen Shirou as God after his show of Holiness against Kokabiel but looking at him now without a single trace of heavenly energy around him, she realized that he too was human.

She glanced away, aware that she had been staring at him for too long, the task Gabriel had asked of her long forgotten.

"We can't just stay here," Shirou said after a quick surveillance of the area around him. "I think I can see others over there."

In the distant trees not too far off from the Villa, he was able to spot figures walking in organized groups that caused him to realize that there was something more in play than what he had realized.

His eye narrowed, his enhanced eye sight able to determine that the figures he had spotted were in fact a group of Fallen Angels armed with spears of light and swords. From what he knew of Fallen Angels, the more wings one had, the stronger the Fallen Angel was. And in this case, the majority of the Fallen Angels in the group in front of him possessed at least eight wings on average.

Kokabiel possessed ten wings and he alone was enough to effortlessly defeat Rias and the others, let alone a group of eight-winged Fallen Angels. It was a firepower not to be scoffed at, and he made the decision that he didn't want to risk getting located at the moment.

"We need to move Irina," he called behind him.

No reply.

"Irina?" He tried again.

"Uhm, uh, Shirou," Irina said slowly, a finger tapping onto his arm and drawing his attention. "We have company."

His eyes widened as a four-winged Fallen Angel stood in front of him, expression scornful.

"Humans?" The Fallen Angel spoke, not recognizing Shirou for who he was since the events that occurred in Kuoh were strictly contained.

In fact, not even Kokabiel and the Fallen Angels following him had spoken a word of it to any other Fallen. It was only Heaven, and a few representatives from the Underworld who knew his identity.

The Fallen Angel stared at him and Irina for a moment longer before revealing a mocking glower.

"Jealous, are we?" The Fallen Angel began. "You human from the Hero Faction sicken me. Tell me, did Cao Cao send you because he was unsatisfied about being left out in the attack in the Peace Talks?"

He felt Irina's breath hitch, but he covered her reaction from sight with his back. He knew all to well that showing any surprise would land them in a situation out of their control. Moreover, they were currently safe with the assumption the Fallen Angel was making about them and the so-called Hero Faction.

Therefore, silence was the best answer.

The Fallen Angel grunted. "We don't welcome your faction here, now go before I make you."

The Fallen Angel shoved him and Irina away before heading towards the other Fallen Angels in the distance.

Left alone, the first thing he did was lead Irina away to a location without anyone present. The only reason the four-winged Fallen Angel had been able to get so close to him was because he had been preoccupied. Now though, he was being attentive with everything around him. What he and Irina had just heard was too important to dismiss.

"They're going to attack the Peace Talks," Irina said heatedly.

The situation wasn't good. Especially considering what he knew of Michael and Gabriel's current condition. After all, it was through their power that God had been able to send him back to the time period of the Underworld's Civil War.

If an attack was already pending, then he had to warn them at post haste or stop the attack all together.

The only problem was that he didn't have enough information. Just informing Sirzechs, Azazel, and Michael of an incoming attack on the Peace Talks wouldn't be enough for them to make an adequate defence against an enemy whose means of attack nobody knew.

Still.

"You have to go back somehow and warn them," he said to Irina.

"Then what about you?" She asked back.

"I'll stay here and find out what this is all about," he began, gaze focusing elsewhere before shifting. "This space has a collection of Humans, Devils, Fallen Angels, and even Angels," he concluded when his attention refocused on Irina.

"This Hero Faction we were mistaken for must come from the other Humans congregated over there," he pointed towards a clearing in the woods.

Irina placed a hand on her arm. "Just what exactly is going on here? I thought we were only helping Ophis get back home."

"Yes?" A voice called.

His lip twitched. He knew that at this moment there was only one individual he knew who had the mean to sneak up on him.

"Ophis," he greeted the girl who sat upon a tree branch peering down at him. "Just who are these people?" He asked gesturing towards the direction of the Fallen Angels.

Ophis shrugged. "Khaos Brigade," was all she said, her expression vacant.

He noted the name Ophis had said but grew unsettled at the next moment.

"Didn't you say that you just wanted to go home? Then why are you associated with this Khaos Brigade?" He questioned.

Ophis blinked, her innocent appearance hard to attribute to a group plotting to attack the Peace Talks.

"But I do want to go home," she said lips thinning.

"Then what's the Khaos Brigade?" Irina asked.

Ophis shrugged.

"I don't know. They said they would help me get back home if I helped them first."

"And you just did as they asked?" He said incredulously.

"Was I wrong?"

Ophis's expression broke into a frown, her body tensing subtly before she shook her head. "They're strong and they promised that they'd help me after," she reasoned.

This, this person.

Looking at Ophis, he quickly realized just what kind of personality she had. She was way too naïve to believe that this Khaos Brigade would honour the terms of their agreement. It was like a child being fooled by an adult.

It was wrong even if the person being fooled was a being with a power unimaginable.

Yet, before he could even try to reason with her, Ophis disappeared with another frown.

"She's gone," Irina spoke.

He nodded his head before turning to Irina.

He had asked her to go back and warn Michael and the others of the pending attack on the Peace Talks but looking at how Ophis had just left as if she was informed of something, he took back that idea. It was likely that someone was freely in control of this dimension and could discover anything abnormal that may occur. If Irina attempted to break out the way they came, it was likely that she would be detected and put in danger.

"Stay with me," he said.

Irina didn't raise a complaint, she knew the gravity of the situation.

"With us being human, the safest place for us in here is in the Hero Faction that the Fallen Angel had talked about. I'm sure we can blend in with the amount of people I saw up ahead."

Just by numbers alone, the Hero Faction appeared to be the second-largest faction of the Khaos Brigade. Therefore, it would be unlikely for anyone there to know the appearance of every member of the faction.

Still, he was cautious as he didn't want to see Irina or himself get into a situation that they couldn't deal with. As such, he made himself and Irina a rudimentary disguise using the white cloak Irina wore which he tore into strips that he wrapped around their faces. In the end however, they looked more conspicuous with them on so he eventually discarded the idea and then simply wasted an ample amount of energy to trace a pair of featureless masks.

By the end of it, he was left panting as he was never good at tracing anything other than swords and weapons. Even mundane things like the masks had cost him a considerable amount of his own energy which he wanted to save for emergencies.

Despite the inconvenience in creating the masks, he had done so anyway just to be safe.

With a destination in mind, the two quickly made their way, only to real in shock when they eventually arrived.

W-What is this?

Bodies were strewn around, haggard and pale.

Some even had festering wounds and sores that were puss filled and oozing.

They called themselves the Hero Faction, but this wasn't the appearance of heroes, but that of corpses.

It almost made one feel like gagging.

The lifeless eyes that stared at him, the blankness derived from emptiness.

The Hero Faction of the Khaos Brigade was a faction that consisted solely of humans tasked with fighting against 'Evil Beings.' And yet, seeing the sight in front of Shirou and Irina, who were the ones truly evil?

Shirou's hands balled into fists, his expression murderous.

This state of existence wasn't what a hero was.

Many in the Hero Faction were humans possessing Sacred Gears who were either abducted, brainwashed, or followed willingly. Yet what was the result?

Nothing but meaningless pain and death.

In silence, he walked up to them, Irina watching his every move even as a Holy Aura extended from him, its intensity increasing with every step.

Irina swallowed, reminded once more of the person Shirou was.

A man whose origin stemmed from a simple creek no bigger than a stream.

He who was baptized in water and lived in the forests of the wild.

A Holyman.

He simply just didn't care about hiding anymore. The Holy Aura around him was like a never-ending torrent. After God had assimilated Michael and Gabriel's power, and then reclaimed his own in the Underworld, the strength of God's Heavenly aura was unimaginable.

Ophis blinked her eyes in the distance and many from the other Factions that composed the Khaos Brigade grew startled. More so for the few Angels who suddenly felt like weeping in remorse. For it was a power too familiar to forget.

 _The light of the Father._

Regardless of the commotion the energy around him was causing, he reeled it all in, concentrating it all on his palms. Inadvertently, this action caused many who were sensing for the origin of the power to fall short.

He didn't care.

Under Irina's gaze he continued to move forward, kneeling by the sides of the injured and plagued.

As the wielder of the Power of God, he could feel the emotions of despair and anguish from the hollow faces of those in front of him. The unwillingness born from being forced into a situation they couldn't change.

He would be their salvation.

His palms fell upon them.

 _A power of Healing._

 _The Might of God._

He who took up infirmities and bore the diseases of man.

 _"Be cleansed,"_ God's voice echoed with his own words, the concentrated light in his palms banishing away all injury and plague.

Irina gasped behind him, but he simply moved on to the next person.

Those that had grown blind became able to see.

Those that had grown deaf became able to hear.

It was the power of God's miracles.

The hands and very power that had cleansed the face of the leper and healed all the sick; the true power God had attempted to store within the Sacred Gear called Twilight Healing but was only able to store a fraction of.

One by one, the people were healed. Their complexions grew flushed, their breathing even, and even the vacancy of their eyes returned.

And what they all saw in front of them, was a man who had appeared in their darkest moments.

A Healer.

A _Hero._

One not in any way similar to the supposed descendants of Legendary Heroes that had reduced them to such a state in the first place to achieve Balance Breakers with their Sacred Gears.

"T-Thank you," they said even as they wept, yet they passed out in the next moment, their bodies still too weak.

Shirou stood up, fully knowing that his actions had made him stick out, but he had no choice in the matter. He would never allow others to suffer in front of him when he had the means to save them.

And indeed, his actions had made him stand out, he the only one standing in an entire mass of people that were healed

"Who are you!" A stern voice called out.

A man appeared a short distance away from Irina, pushing past the crowd of other Hero Faction members talking in a murmur. One who was handsome and had silver-white hair and red eyes that contrasted with the black priest coat similar to Freed Sellzen's that he wore.

"A Hero," was all that he said.

At the moment, no one could tell that he had been the source of God's power as once again, God was concealing his aura, frustrating many.

The man's eyes narrowed at Shirou's answer. For all intents and purposes, Shirou's answer was like mocking him for all member of the Hero Faction could call themselves heroes.

"Enough games. My name is Siegfried, a leader of the Hero Faction under Cao Cao. Now who are you?"

Siegfried's voice was cold. He could see that there was a change in the eyes of the Hero Faction members around him. They had a sort of devotion in their eyes that not even Cao Cao had been able to earn from them.

"A Hero," Shirou simply repeated once more.

Siegfried grunted. "And I too am a Hero, one who carries the blood of the Hero Siegfried."

Shirou fell silent, anger welling up from within him. The man before him was in no way comparable to the selfless hero he had once glimpsed form the history of Balmung. More than that, how could Siegfried call himself a Hero while letting such atrocities occur?

Shirou couldn't understand it; a part of him even wished to just fight it out with the Leaders of this so-called Hero Faction. Yet God was warning him of something.

 _"Do not fight here. There is a man nearby who has the means to defeat you with a single attack. This man is your bane. No matter how strong you are or become, one stab of that spear, and your strength will become nothing. You will understand why once you see it."_

Shirou frowned, but relented, moving to stand in front of Irina, yet he couldn't leave Siegfried's words unanswered.

"You are not a hero, none of you are," he said.

Siegfried's lips thinned, but he held his temper despite his pride feeling like it had been slighted.

"And why are we not?" Siegfried gritted out the question, drawing out his Demonic Blades and pressing them under Shirou's neck in a single motion.

Shirou shook his head firmly.

"Your swords will not reach me," he pressed a hand against the sword by his neck and pushed _._

The sound of metal grating echoed out, accompanied by Siegfried's widening eyes.

"Your swords will not cut me,"

The hand he had used to push away Siegfried's Demonic swords was left unscathed. Yet perhaps more shocking than that, was the fact that Siegfried had felt his connection with his Demonic Swords _weaken_ from just that touch alone.

Siegfried swallowed, looking at Shirou in trepidation.

There was only be one reason why his connection with Balmung, Nothung, Tyrfing, Dáinsleif, and even Gram would weaken from Shirou's touch, and that was because his swords found Shirou worthier than he.

Impossible.

The word played endlessly in his mind, even as Shirou's words continued.

"For they understand that my words are true."

Balmung and Gram began to vibrate softly as if agreement, causing even further turmoil in Siegfried's mind. More so when he stared at Shirou and the image of a long silver-haired man whose body was covered in woven plate armour superimposed with him.

 _The gaze of the Hero wished upon by others._

One who didn't care if he was acknowledged or praised by anyone.

One who simply wished to fight for the Justice he believed in.

 _The Hero of the saga of Völsunga_

Siegfried the Dragon Slayer.

Balmung and Gram trembled, and Siegfried had to actively fight to prevent them from flying into Shirou's hands.

"A true Hero is not one who simply saves,"

A voice that was strong and filled with conviction.

Irina, Siegfried, and everyone else was now paying rapt attention.

"A true Hero is one who fights for the sake of the benevolence they believe in."

"The Loyalty they believe in."

"The Love they believe in."

Irina saw Shirou in a different light, the admiration within her no longer stemming just from the fact that he held the power of God, but in the type of person he was.

"They fight for the ideals they hold in their hearts, enduring hardship to protect them."

His eyes narrowed fiercely, the anger he felt evident and forcing even Siegfried to shrink back.

"To call yourselves Heroes at the expenses of others, you all are far from Heroes," he said disdainfully.

"For Heroes are not made by force, but by will."

Many gulped, the many who had been healed waking up to hear such words and making them grow fervent. Siegfried noticed this immediately and realized what would happen if Shirou wasn't dealt with.

A New Faction would appear within the Hero Faction.

One that did not follow Cao Cao but this person whose name he didn't even know.

But it was impossible to stop, for this man's words were swaying even he himself.

"And if you all can't see that, you will understand that when one day in the pits of your despair,"

Shirou paused, staring at everyone present.

"A Hero will rise."

* * *

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	29. The Sword and Mysteries: Part 2

Although there were some fields Rias considered herself lacking in due to inexperience, intuition was not one of them.

She crossed her legs and reclined her back in exhaustion over the small couch she kept near the center of the Occult Research Club room and lazily stretched her arms into the air; a small yawn building up from within her that she softly let out under the rays of the sun leaking in from the open glass window beside her. The twin peaks that denoted the size of her chest strained against the fabric of her uniform with her actions, but she didn't care as much when doing so helped relieve the stress of their weight on her shoulders.

It was true that she admitted that bigger was better, and in fact, she was quite prideful and pleased with her assets, but all good things had a price. The stiffness of her shoulders was just one of them, only this time, the added fatigue was close to making it unbearable. Unless Issei showed up anytime soon, then she was of the mind to just slouch for the remainder of the day to save the effort. Only in the presence of the man who had earned her heart would she be able to endure.

Regardless, she sighed as Issei wasn't actually here, and she was reluctant to involve him in the current matters. Instead, he was better off getting more acquainted with his junior Devil of her peerage, Bishop Piece Gasper Vladi.

She said junior not because Gasper was recruited after Issei, but because Gasper was just recently unsealed from the restraints that had bound him due to her inability to control his power at the time of his recruitment.

The Forbidden Balor View.

A Sacred Gear with the ability to momentarily stop the time of anything within the user's line of sight. Therefore, enabling the user to obtain absolute control from a limited perception.

To be truthful, it had caused her a number of problems in the past as Gasper was unable to control it, and she unable to contain it. Just speaking of the dangers of suddenly freezing in action while combating against stray Devils or enemies was too much for her overly protective brother to let pass.

Gasper Vladi was thus sealed away until just recently getting released with the increase of Rias's power and peerage.

Still, the matters she was dealing with had nothing to do with Gasper, Issei, or any other member of her peerage. It was something that she had decided to do herself.

Her lips thinned, and her eyes naturally fell over to the small center table in front of her

A string of documents was laid out on the surface, messy and somewhat crinkled after her most recent browsing; a few were even inlaid with magical seals while others were filled with heavy text that caused her to pinch the bridge of her nose in irritation, a hand rubbing on her temples.

Something was going on in the Underworld and her brother was avoiding her questions. Generally, that would have had been the point where she would back down due to her trust in her older brother, but this time was different.

She couldn't not try to know.

Not when Sona, her best friend, appeared to be looking more pale and haggard by the day; not even noticing that she was muttering under her breath, a guilt expressed in her eyes that was eating away at her.

The members of Sona's peerage were increasingly worried, and it was through them that the matter was brought to Rias's attention.

She wouldn't be able to forget the scene of Saji Genshirou bowing his head and pleading for help. More so because she knew that Saji Genshirou, a recently promoted pawn, would have had had his reservation about going behind his King's back to request aid from the King of another peerage.

Knowing Sona as well as Rias did, Sona would have had never allowed Saji to bother others with her problem. Yet that was the thing though, to Rias, Sona's problems weren't just her problems, but hers as well.

The two were friends since childhood, they'd never hesitate to help each other.

Therefore, this was what led to the current situation.

She wet her lips and gradually straightened her back to once again go over the documents before her, a hand moving to pick one up from the top of a pile.

Her brows furrowed.

Like she had read from the last reports, although something was happening in the Underworld, it was rather subtle. If one was simply browsing or giving a cursory glance, they would find nothing out of the norm, but after careful consideration, she had realized the center of the shift.

The Lands of Marbas.

Its current activity was abnormal, at least she thought it was.

She bit her lips, her expression going pensive.

The Lands of Marbas was a central hub and important Capital City of the Underworld that dealt with the livelihoods of numerous Devils both Low-Class and High. On a regular basis, thousands of Devils walked through its streets as it was an economical power house, but recently, minor regulations were being imposed to cull the number of visitors. Adding to that, there was a steadily increasing number of military personnel being recalled from all over the other areas of the Underworld, and no one understood why. Then again, to protect such an important Capital City, it wasn't too far of a stretch to have a large deterrent force.

Her hands placed down the document back onto the small center table and then slowly came to rest beneath her chin.

It was too complicated to decide on anything at the moment, yet her intuition was telling her that she had already arrived at an answer.

Still, speculation wasn't enough.

A decision forming in her mind, she stood up and exited the Occult Research Room, the confidential papers she had acquired through the Gremory Family's connections fading away in light of a magic seal.

If research wouldn't work to provide definite answers, then she would have to try her chances in plainly asking.

Due to the arrangements made when Kuoh Academy was first constructed, the Occult Research Club wasn't actually too far away from the Student Council Room. The only difference was that the two buildings were separated by a small courtyard gap to create a distinction between Rias and Sona's zones of influence. Namely, to aid in secrecy when it came to the abilities and training of their peerages as although they were friends, it was inevitable that they eventually faced each other in a Rating Game as Heiresses to different pillars.

She straightened the hem of her uniform as a light breeze ruffled both her hair and attire. Naturally, the sight was eye catching as Rias was a woman of exceptional beauty, and coupled with her determined expression, it made many pause, as she walked by.

However, she noticed a slight difference to the number of people paying attention to her. Don't get her wrong, she wasn't one of those conceited individuals obsessed with her own appearance, but it was just as a Devil she was more acute to such minor distinctions. After all, hers was a species that made contracts with the desires of humans. To be able to detect subtle dissimilarities in attitude, it wasn't too hard to do.

Curious as she was as to why, it wasn't until she entered the main building of the Student Council that she was forced to a stop.

Her brows furrowed.

The more she observed the students around, the more she realized that the majority of them were crowding around the windows.

"Who is that!?"

"It has to be a celebrity."

"And you would know?"

A flurry of voices entered her ears, but none were more distinct then the sound of her love interest and his two other friends.

"Their _huge_."

Issei had his mouth gaping open, expression dazed as his hands subconsciously began groping at the air, his friends Matsuda and Motohama agreeing with him immediately. With the three of them together, they were considered the Perverted Trio of Kuoh Academy, and up until now she had never really understood why they were so hated for chasing after their desires.

Her lip twitched, gaze growing murderous.

Now though, she believed she understood why.

More so because her target of affection appeared interested in another woman.

"Issei," she called, the sound of her voice instantly freezing the stunned youth. After all, anyone could detect the anger laced into her tone that was threatening to explode.

When Issei turned around, he was met with a strained smile, one that hardly appeared genuine and more like the face one would wear when attempting to draw closer to a spooked animal.

"Weren't you with Gasper?" Rias questioned, the light in her eyes glinting sharply.

Issei's mouth dried as he attempted to answer; Asia who was nearby unable to aid him in his plight do to her disorientation caused by the disillusion and disappointment of her smaller bust size.

"Uhm, about that," Issei finally got out while scratching at the back of his head and pointing at a box near the edge of the Hallway. "He's right there."

It was inconspicuous, and something that she had hardly noticed at all until it was pointed out, but from within the cut holes on the side, she was able to see the truth in Issei's statement.

 _A box vampire, or at least half of one._

She shook her head, a small sound escaping her lips, but she was far from appeased even knowing that Issei hadn't abandoned his duties.

Regardless, her anger had abated enough for her to compose herself.

Her gaze left Issei's and out towards the windows to ascertain which harlot was attempting to seduce her man before promptly freezing.

She swallowed nervously, all anger fading away from her as she stared at the woman calmly walking through the entrance of Kuoh Academy's school grounds.

A woman whose beauty could be ranked at the uppermost level of the Underworld, and one many low-class devils took as their idol.

Serafall Leviathan's Knight and a representative of the Lands of Marbas.

Adelina Swiftblade.

She was tall, just a tad higher than Rias herself with a slim figure that only pronounced the prominent swell kept hidden beneath the tidy blue-coloured blouse she currently wore. One of her pant legs was rolled up, exposing smooth pale skin and a black patterned leg band fashioned after the magic crest of Marbas.

What drew the most attention other than the elegant coldness of her face however, was the longsword strapped horizontally at her waist; her arms having to rest over the hilt to prevent the scabbard from dragging against the ground.

Described as an indifferent woman, Adelina's sharp senses were exceedingly acute.

In fact, the moment Rias had spotted her, Adelina had done the same at a glance with narrowed eyes, but she simply chose not to react as she continued on with her business.

It was like a bucket of cold water had doused Rias over the face. The fact that Adelina had arrived in Kuoh was evidence enough that events were indeed happening in the Underworld that she was unaware of, but Sona must be a part of. After all, Adelina herself was related to the Sitri family, and Sona was its current heiress.

Rias pursed her lips, the troubled expression on her face subsequently sobering Issei up in an instant.

Yet she didn't give him the chance to ask any questions, her feet carrying her away passed Kiba whose back was pressed against the wall beneath the windowsill, weary of Adelina discovering him.

Rias didn't bother with whatever matters Kiba and his teacher had with Adelina to cause him to be so flustered, but she would inquire at a different occasion. For now, she decided to get her priorities straight.

She walked to the Student Council room and didn't even wait to knock before entering. A clear breach of proper etiquette.

The expected jab at her lack of manners however was oddly lacking from Sona who didn't even seem to notice her.

She simply sat there on her desk, head rested upon her interlaced hands while her lips remained sealed in a tight line. Bags had formed under her eyes, and the ideal student image she had always carried was absent, her clothes ruffled and hair slightly unkempt.

It was at this point that Rias finally understood why Sona had pushed her peerage away to temporarily stay at another room. Sona's current appearance was one that was difficult to look at, especially for those close to her like her peerage; seeing her in this state would have had only caused them to worry. Naturally, now that Rias had seen it herself, she too began to worry, her mood quickly souring.

"Sona," she called, expression flickering with concern as she approached. "What is happening with you?"

The sound of her voice was enough to jolt Sona to her senses, her tired gaze glancing up at Rias before sighing in self-reproach. Guilt was a more accurate word to describe it, but only Sona could understand her own grief during her constant interactions with her elder sister.

"Rias," she greeted, a weariness in the smile that graced her tired features.

Still, she didn't answer Rias's question and instead opted to shake her head.

Getting Rias involved would only make the situation more complicated. Sona was already distressed and fatigued enough, and as much as she trusted Rias, facts had already proven that she and her peerage were the types to neglect logic in favour of their emotions. This had been the case for the Fallen Angel incident and dragging her pawn Saji Genshirou into the matter.

Moreover, Sona hardened her expression.

This was a family matter.

She alone could bear the burden of crushing her elder sister's hopes with her silence, earning the ire of her elder sister for the first time since she was born. Even as restrained as Serafall's anger was, Sona could still understand that it was an anger born from desperation and hope.

And she was the cause of it, and that was what was eating away at her. More so with all the conjectures that filled her mind about Shirou and the mystery of the Marbas Line.

She clenched her teeth. She only had to hold out for a few more days until the Peace Talks had passed. Then, then she could finally attempt to ease the pain she knew her sister must be feeling.

It was all for the sake of the greater good.

And it was in this situation that Sona realized that she was beginning to hate the rational part of herself.

Still, Sona's silence on the matter wasn't taken well by Rias who only grew more concerned.

"Sona, we're friends," Rias pleaded attempting to reason with Sona.

To an extent it worked, the tremble of Sona's shoulders evident, but it wasn't enough.

"It's better if I handle this matter myself," Sona laid down her intentions, the tightening of her face forcibly closing the matter.

Rias stood silent, fully knowing that once Sona had made up her mind, it was hard for anyone to change it. She sighed, her expression falling as she reluctantly made her way back to the door in which she came from, only to pause at the end.

"Thank you,"

The quiet voice that entered Rias's ears was enough to express Sona's gratitude for her efforts in two words. Just that it made Rias more determined to get to the bottom of the matter, and only one last person came to mind.

"Mmhm," she replied, nodding her head.

She then closed the door behind her, the soft click of the latch the last sound she would hear until she returned to a specific room in the Occult Research Club building.

Her older brother's temporary office until the end of the Peace Talks.

Sirzechs Lucifer, her older brother was the only one left that she could ask.

As the target of her elder brother's spoiling, there was never a need to knock when she wanted to visit. Therefore, as soon as she arrived in front of her brother's office, she turned the knob and directly stepped in.

What she found inside left her stunned however.

"Ah, Rias, now might not have been the best of times," Sirzech's said awkwardly, a wry smile on his face as Rias closed the door behind her.

"Miss Gremory," Adelina greeted curtly.

She was seated directly in front of Sirzechs and her long silk-like hair parted at the side to prevent it from blocking her vision.

Rias raised a brow. "If I'm interrupting something, I can leave," she suggested politely.

Sirzechs grew visibly relieved and was moments away from giving his consent before a voice cut him off.

"No, stay for a moment," Adelina said, shifting her eyes away from Sirzechs and directly towards Rias. "You may know more about this matter than Lord Lucifer whose only been here for a couple of days."

Rias's brows knitted together, but she nodded her head to convey that she would co-operate despite noticing the subtle flash of unease that played on Sirzech's face.

"Then I must thank you for your cooperation."

Saying that, Adelina fumbled with a rolled-up parchment that she had kept stored in the magical space of her Sitri Family magic circle and opened it up for Rias to see.

Oddly enough, Adelina had opened a Family Registry, something that most Devils of Nobility that included the Gremory Family were all known to have.

Confused, it was only when she saw the dimly lit magic crest of Marbas that she felt her breath hitch in a sudden realization.

Everything was beginning to make sense.

In the history of the Underworld, there many depictions and portraits of the famed Hero of the Civil War, and of course she couldn't forget the tragedy that concerned him and Serafall Leviathan.

What mattered though, was why she had been so stupid.

From the moment she had seen Shirou, she knew that she had seen his appearance from somewhere in her memory. It was practically a piece of history that was hammered into her head during the education she had obtained in her upbringing. Yet only now that the magic crest of Marbas was in front of her was she able to relate everything.

The magic crest that had once been dim, was now glowing, proving that the line of Marbas wasn't dead.

And only one individual she knew could be related to Marbas just by appearance alone.

Her mind blanked.

Oh God.

What kind of a mess and situation was this?

"As you can see, the Magic Crest of my Lord shines with magical light," Adelina said sternly. "A young master still exists for this vassal to serve. It is imperative that I find him, and as such, I have come to obtain information about this matter of which I request your co-operation. Do you know anything?"

It was a hard question to answer. A part of Rias wanted to just speak the truth as hiding something as important as the current matter didn't sit right with her. However, the shaking of her brother's head behind Adelina's back forced her into a difficult situation. There had to be a reason why her brother himself had not told anything.

As such, she could only answer in the negative.

"Sorry, there's nothing I really know that can help you," she said.

Adelina's expression flickered in doubt, but she could tell that there was nothing left for her to get out of the current situation.

"If that's the case, I won't disturb you both any longer," Adelina said, standing up on her feet and giving a short nod to Sirzechs.

Thereafter, Adelina walked towards the exit of the room, pausing before leaving.

"If you find anything, please inform me. I will be staying in one of the vacant rooms in the Student Council Building."

With that said, Adelina left, leaving the two siblings alone in a heavy silence.

Rias crossed her arms, lips thinning as she glared at her brother, the distance between them rather short due to the relative size of the room. In fact, it was only large enough to accommodate a desk and reception chairs lined at the adjacent corner.

"This isn't right," she spoke.

She knew that Sirzechs had already met with Shirou and that her brother was smart enough to correlate the similarities between Shirou and the Hero Marbas. Therefore, she couldn't understand why Sirzechs wasn't being forthright with the information.

"It's not about right or wrong," Sirzechs spoke, shaking his head. "Satan only knows that my current actions are only increasing the rift that had formed between me and Serafall at the end of the Civil War. However, I still have to take them."

Sirzechs closed his eyes. "Many are tired of this war. We are too close to the Peace Talks to jeopardize everything by putting it to chance."

"And Sona would understand that better than anyone," Rias said glumly.

"Indeed. She has a lot to bear on her shoulders."

The room fell into silence, neither of the sibling speaking, their hands balling into fists in resignation.

Only three days remained before the Peace Talks would begin.

* * *

To save others to save himself.

For a time, that was exactly what he had believed in and strived for if only to obtain the happiness he had found in that man's smile. It was a selfish desire, and something he knew was far from the ambitions of a normal youth, but even so, it mattered not what others thought. So long as he understood that his path was not wrong, he would follow it. Even if that road was one wrought with contradictions and bitterness that he had seen for himself, he would remain steadfast.

For that was what he had believed being a Hero, an Ally of Justice meant. Yet in the end,

He was wrong.

It was only after seeing the state he had left Serafall in at the end of the Underworld's Civil War that he had realized this.

A Hero that saves others to save himself wasn't a Hero.

Because sometimes those that had been saved, may not have had been saved.

He would have had realized this far sooner had he seen Xenovia's state at the end of the Holy Sword Trials when all the examinees had assumed he had died, but he hadn't. Therefore, this realization had been delayed.

There were those that would cry for him in his death, mourn for him even for a lifetime. To say he had been a Hero by subjecting them to a life of grief and regrets, he couldn't accept that kind of an answer. Therefore, even for himself he was still trying to understand what a Hero truly was. However, if there was one thing he knew, it was that a Hero who hurts the innocent wasn't a Hero.

And Siegfried and those associated with him leading the Hero Faction were not Heroes.

They could never be with the methods they were employing.

A tired sigh escaped Shirou's mouth, the fatigue built up from the past few hours finally taking its toll on him. He wasn't physically exhausted but mentally. He just couldn't understand how anyone could subject fellow humans to such callous treatment and still be able to proudly call themselves Heroes.

The situation only proved that his understanding of the world was truly lacking. Perhaps Archer had been right and not everyone was meant to be saved?

His mood darkened, a part of him still refusing to believe in any other alternatives simply because he knew that people could change. He himself was no exception and Archer, his future self, was a pure manifestation of that.

But he _wasn't_ Archer.

Yet, now he could understand why the man had been so cynical.

Everything was just so frustrating.

"Are you alright, Shirou?"

Irina's voice snapped him out of his musings, his head turning to the left to face her as he prevented his mind from wandering again. Now wasn't the time.

Hours ago, Siegfried had left visibly shaken, unable to remain in Shirou's presence for a second longer, slight traces of apprehension in the man's eyes.

Shirou could understand a reason for why though. On top of the words he had spoken, he could feel the connection Siegfried had with Balmung and Gram weakening; the swords favouring him over Siegfreid. It had been in Siegfreid's best interest to leave, for Siegfried knew that should a battle occur, his very swords would betray him.

As such, Siegfried had left in a hurry, leaving everyone else behind.

The current situation was one where the healed and injured had flocked to him and Irina like sheep, captivated by the ideals he had spoken of. For his words were words of truth. Something that he himself had once experienced.

And that was enough.

"I'm fine," he said, watching the way Irina was fidgeting nervously.

He couldn't really tell what face she was making due to the mask she currently wore, but he knew it was probably one of concern.

She really was a kind-hearted girl.

"Irina," he said offhandedly, causing her to perk up. "Thank you."

It was all that he needed to say right now, for no other words were necessary to explain his appreciation.

Irina stiffened, the tips of her ears shifting red as her waving hands indicated that she was falling into a fluster.

"No no!" She was quick to say before quieting down. "I should be the one thanking you. You may not be able to understand this, but,"

Irina pursed her lips, her words trailing off as she couldn't bring herself to say that she had been greatly moved by Shirou's actions. The fact that he had risked his own safety to heal others, and the fact that when danger came he had dealt with it by the conviction and authenticity of his words alone, any of the two reasons were commendable.

To many that had been watching him including herself, he really did appear to be a Hero.

Shirou stared at her for a moment and then changed the subject of the conversation when he realized that it had already concluded.

His eyes shifted towards the hundreds of Hero Faction members that were gathered a short distance away. Many of them had been the ones he had personally healed, but the others were those that had been swayed by his words and actions, and they weren't just a few. From the output of the aura they were releasing, it wasn't difficult to realize that the extent of some of their abilities were exceptional.

Still, a problem existed.

"How should we get all these people out?" He asked Irina for any suggestions.

After a short period of questioning, he and Irina had discovered that the majority of the recent members of the Hero Faction had been forcibly taken to this place. Running away had meant death, and the only way to survive was if one was able to surpass their limits and reach a state known as Balance Breaker with the Sacred Gears possessed by hundreds of them.

As such, the majority of the Hero Faction members were forced into the position, making them innocent in actively attempting to participate in the planned attack on the Peace Talks.

Irina crossed her arms around her, feeling troubled but not knowing what it was that she could do.

"Maybe we can find the leaders of the Khaos Brigade and apprehend them?" She suggested, already sounding as if she couldn't believe that plan would ever work.

Expectedly, Shirou shook his head.

"It wouldn't work as we need more information." Shirou placed a hand beneath his chin as Irina's suggestion _had_ actually been something he was considering. Still, it was impossible. "By the time we get that information, the Peace Talks would have had been already underway. We'll have to think of something else."

The two fell silent, but it was because of this that they were able to hear the distinct sound of a scream echo out.

Shirou tensed, his eyes already scanning towards the general direction by instinct, and when he did, it was to see two Angels being beaten against the ground by a group of Devils.

What he didn't know was that when he had released God's aura to help aid the sick and weakened, it had also caused the Angels that had chosen to aid the Khaos Brigade to question their actions; the two Angels before him now, those that had chosen to no longer co-operate.

He felt Irina tense beside him, her body already in the position to leap forward. However, he stopped her by grabbing her hand and shaking his head.

"Shirou you, we can't just leave them." Irina tried to shake his grip.

He simply maintained it. "Not yet," was all he said while he continued observing.

The Angels were heavily injured, bruises forming on their skin that formed angry red welts, but it didn't seem as if the Devils attacking intended to kill them. As such, he was still able to restrain himself from immediately acting out, which he knew was different from how he normally acted. Then again, it was probably due to consideration for his own life that a subconscious part of him was beginning to value.

Eventually, the Angels were dragged off towards another location, disappearing from sight.

He released Irina's hand and then promptly took action.

"Wait here," he said, not wasting a second longer to even hear Irina's response before leaving, fearful of losing the Angel's trail.

Magical energy travelled through his body, enhancing his abilities as he maneuvered towards his targets from the treetops that surrounded the area at the base of the high cliff. Perhaps they were feeling particularly assured of themselves, but the Devils dragging the two Angels didn't appear to be very cautious in their actions. However, this behaviour could be in part due to the fact that they were in a separate dimension that no enemies should have had gotten into.

His expression steeled.

It was all the better for him.

Following closely behind, he waited just outside the outskirts of a tattered residence and watched as the Devils imprisoned the two Angels within.

One breath,

Then two.

He counted, concealing himself within the shrubs as the Devils passed by.

It was only when he had mentally counted to twenty did he begin to move, his steps not making a sound and only the wind rustling the leaves. There were no guards to speak of, let alone any traps to stop him. Everything pointed to the absolute fact that the Khaos Brigade was confident that no enemy would be able to infiltrate the dimension.

Unfortunately for them, they didn't consider the whims of a Dragon God.

He arrived by the entrance of the tattered building, the curious gaze of a twin-tailed black cat all there was to greet him. Oddly enough, it was the same cat he had seen in the alley with Irina before being dragged into the current dimension.

"It must have had been hard on you," he said sympathetically to the cat as he moved it aside, assuming that it had inadvertently been brought here due to meeting him.

It meowed in response, but it didn't do anything else after he had coaxed it to the side. Instead, all it did was watch him, a twinkle in its yellowish eyes that he didn't notice.

With no security, he was quickly able to enter the room where the Two Angels were locked unconscious in, their bodies sprawled on the floor.

It was there that he realized that he was at a loss.

He had nowhere to bring them, let alone find them somewhere safe to stay.

He clicked his tongue, his eyes scanning the room for anything he might be able to use and inadvertently stopping on the cat that suddenly appeared in front of him again.

He raised a brow, certain that he had left this cat outside.

Perhaps noticing his confusion, the cat seemed to grin at him before nudging its head on the bodies of the two angels. At first, he wasn't sure what the cat was trying to tell him, but it became evident when the cat shifted from nudging the two Angels to dragging them with her mouth. Still, this process had taken a lengthy amount of time.

"You want me to carry them?" He finally said, feeling a tad awkward talking with a cat.

The cat's mouth twitched, pale-yellow irises rolling in exaggeration before nodding its head in approval.

Although he was feeling odd about the situation, he chose not to question anything further and simply picked both Angels up. However, the moment he did so, the Two Angels, one male and one female, clung to him like a magnet; the small amount of God's aura he was using to heal them drawing them closer.

He sighed, more so when the both of them wrapped themselves around his legs and arms and made it difficult for him to move.

He stared at the cat, and the cat stared back at him before motioning for him to follow.

Still though, either he was going crazy,

Or the cat had actually laughed at him.

* * *

Irina paced anxiously, gaze periodically shifting towards the direction Shirou had disappeared from and a sensation of panic beginning to overwhelm her. Yet she couldn't help it.

He'd been gone for too long already.

She paused in her pacing, turning towards the crowd of Hero Faction members that she had inadvertently attracted in her worrying, and took in a breath. Now wasn't the time to panic, not when she had others relying on her.

From the moment Shirou had saved theses members of the Hero Faction, many of them similarly viewed her as a saviour due to her relation alone. This was even more so for the young children brought in unwillingly by the Hero Faction who found it more comfortable to deal with her. Therefore, she couldn't let herself look weak.

She straightened her back, consciously willing her body to stop trembling.

"Where did he go?" Someone asked referring to Shirou.

"He had something to deal with," she said truthfully. "He should be back sometime soon."

The crowd murmured to themselves after she had finished speaking, but at least they were appeased. She didn't know if she'd be able to calm them down if she said that there was a chance that he may not come back should he get caught. After all, they really had grown reliant on Shirou's presence, for he was the one who had saved them.

Her lips pursed from beneath her mask, the weight of the task before her pressing down on her shoulders.

What's more, she felt a bad premonition from the moment she spotted a two-meter tall man with shoulder length grey hair approaching from the distance. A sneer was over his face, and the Greek-styled warrior armour he wore over a blue uniform only spoke of trouble.

"So, this is the place," the man spoke, eying everyone around as his arms crossed together.

Irina sensed that something was off about the situation but couldn't back down when she felt the hands of one of the children forcibly brought by the Hero Faction grasping onto her clothing. She coaxed the child to let go, and moved to stand at the front, unspeaking and resolve set. She had to protect them somehow, and this statement extended towards those who were still weakened after just recently recovering.

Out of everyone present, she was probably the strongest at the moment.

The man's gaze fell on her in an instant before his hands uncrossed.

"You're the one with the mask?" the man questioned absently.

It was more of a statement than a question, as Irina clearly stood out from the rest who were still pale and feeble, crowding around her for protection. The mask itself was even more evident as other than her, no one else wore one.

Before Irina could answer the question, her senses began flaring at her.

"Everyone, move!" She yelled, body reflexively bending as a fist came near her peripherals, yet her movements suddenly stilled as she caught sight of the fear and despair that flashed across the eyes of those behind her.

Men, women, children, all those brought by the Hero Faction that had failed to pass whatever test was imposed on them. Should she move, the strength of the attack in front of her would annihilate them.

Goosebumps traveled down her skin, the hairs on the back her neck tingling as she made a decision at an instant while clenching her teeth.

The fist struck her in the middle of the gut, the sound of her bones grating within her causing her expression to contort in pain that she muffled by gritting her teeth.

The strength of the blow was astounding, her body flying back with a burst of tail wind that uplifted a cloud of dust due to her sudden acceleration.

"Ergh," she grunted out while tumbling uncontrollably on the ground, pieces of rock and gravel stabbing into her skin that stung with every movement. If not for the fact that she was able to draw her sword out and use it as break to stop her momentum, she would have had flown far farther than she had. Still, the fact that her body was growing increasingly numb was a bad sign of her current state.

She swallowed, the action causing a pain that spread down from her temples and disorientating her. Yet, she didn't dare allow her attention to leave the enemy before her.

"You're nothing special," the man said pridefully. "I can't understand how Siegfried could be so cautious against a weakling."

His words were like sparks to her indignation.

"Y-You, how could you!?" She yelled out in fury despite the pain. "There were children behind me!"

Blood pooled in her mouth, the pungent taste of copper filling it, but she was too distracted to notice.

Too infuriated upon hearing the only response the man gave her.

"So?"

It was only one word, but it was enough to show just what kind of a pugnacious person she was dealing with.

Even if she was far from the image of the Hero she wanted to be,

For the sake of those watching anxiously behind her.

She might as well be one.

Her sword was drawn between her hands, her legs wobbling even as she forced herself to her feet. She knew the difference between her and this man's strength from the moment the man had acted.

She simply stood no chance.

She wasn't an Angel, nor a Devil, but just a human without even a powerful Holy Sword.

Yet she stood up anyway, because no one else could.

The man raised a brow, a part of him somewhat impressed while looking at the woman in front of him.

The twin-tailed hairstyle Irina generally wore had long since become unbound, her hair left to freely fall behind her in a smooth wave that reached the small of her back. Her clothes were in tatters, large holes and gaps cut into them dyed red by the wounds scattered across her trembling body. It was unimaginable how she was even able to stand. The punch she had endured had left her completely breathless, numerous fractures running across her very bones that caused the tissue in the nearby area to swell with a flaring purple.

Yet still she stood.

Because it was exactly what _he_ would have had done.

The Hero in her heart.

She panted for breath, her eyes glaring even though she knew that it was impossible for to move.

It didn't matter.

She closed her her mouth, all the pain accumulating inside her turning into her strength, keeping her awake.

Her will was enough.

"You have courage for daring to face me," the man shrugged at her display. "If anything, the least I can do is tell you my name before I put an end to this supposed uprising."

The man shifted into a hard stance, his arms raised in a grand gesture.

"I am Heracles, descendant of the mightiest Hero in all of Greece."

"And you are nothing compared him," a voice interrupted, plain and monotone.

Heracles furrowed his brows, irritation evident.

However, that voice carried a phenomenal weight to it that caused the faces of those present to brighten, and Irina to sob in relief. Moments before, the thought that she wasn't strong enough to protect anything was simply too difficult to bear.

She felt a hand press down on her head, fingers gently ruffling her hair in a protective gesture. More than that, she felt the warmth of his light seeping into her, alleviating the pain of her injuries.

"It was hard on you," his voice trailed into her ears like the sweetest of honey. "I'm sorry for being late."

She fell onto her knees, her body breaking down on her as she watched his figure walk by.

Tall.

Confident.

And protective.

It was utterly sickening in the eyes of Heracles who couldn't comprehend how a single addition of another fool could change anything. Still, he was smart enough to understand that this masked individual was probably the target Siegfried was actually weary of. The one that thought himself a Hero.

Heracles glowered, the opponent in front of him nowhere near as formidable as Siegfried had described, making everything a waste of time. He came for a fight, not a slaughter.

"Another one with a mask?" Heracles said mockingly. "Can't you see that this is all a waste of time?"

Shirou didn't answer. There wasn't a need to.

Heracles grunted, arms once again raised into a guard in front of him as he then lashed out with a fist.

 _A simple action, the raising of a palm._

A shockwave exploded outwards, a fierce wind blowing away and uprooting even the nearby trees, fissures forming in the ground that led into newly formed chasms.

"!"

Heracles's eyes widened in surprise, his fist caught squarely in his opponent's palm.

"You called yourself Heracles?" Shirou spoke, expression blank as he recalled that particular monster of the Holy Grail War. "You are nowhere near his level."

The level of that towering Giant of Greece was unimaginable. To even compare the two's attacks was like comparing a stick to a sword.

The Son of Zeus.

The Hero of the Twelve Labours of Olympus.

None would be able to match him in his life time, let alone a mere descendant too caught up in his own pride and arrogance.

A reinforced fist punched Heracles squarely in the jaw, blowing the man off of the ground and tumbling him through the trees that snapped under his weight.

"Ghe," Heracles grunted, righting himself before digging his feet into the ground and halting his speed. There wasn't even a hint of pain on his features, simply an indifference as expected of one said to be the descendant of the famed Hero of Greece.

Heracles durability was surprising, but it wasn't unexpected.

Shirou stared calmly, watching as Heracles found leverage with his hands and pulled himself out of the pile of rubble that he had formed, piles of bark and wood splintering beneath his feet.

"Strong as you are, your attacks will never affect me," Heracles boasted, a hand rubbing at the spot he was struck, unwilling to admit that he had actually felt something.

A part of him even considered using his Sacred Gear, but he was even more reluctant to grant Shirou that honour.

It would be Heracles's downfall.

"You're correct that punches alone will not hurt you," Shirou said, raising a hand; a stone sword appearing instantly.

Ancient, and lined with jagged black shards shaped like teeth, it was massive in size and still appeared to be a one-handed weapon. The sheer bulkiness of its body denoted just how heavy it was, and yet that wasn't what caused Heracles to falter for even he could lift boulders with a single arm.

It was the fact that his body began to tremble as if instinctively knowing what was to come.

 _The myth of one man against a beast,_

 _And a technique that was able to slay it._

Heracles's expression turned grim, his blood pumping furiously. There was just something about the weapon before him that was screaming danger. Yet at the same time, he couldn't help but find it familiar, almost as if he had seen the particular sword from a document he had read.

"Punches will not hurt you," Shirou began again, his body springing forward. "But this will."

He appeared in front of Heracles in an instant, sword drawn.

 _Nine strikes to kill._

 _Nine vitals to pummel._

The images flashed though his mind, the power of Godspeed propelling the actualization of the power of a myth. A Noble Phantasm created by drawing out the maximum potential of a weapon alone.

The skill of the Hero at the pinnacle of weapon mastery unleashed.

"Nine Lives Blade Works: Shooting the Hundred Heads!"

An immense pressure weighed down, and for a moment, all were left stunned as what seemed like nine strikes simultaneously struck down on Heracles.

No matter how Heracles tried to defend, it was impossible; his only saving grace being the sudden use of his Sacred Gear Variant Detonation to offset some of the force.

He was blasted away, left in a state where all he could do was stand, blood trailing from his forehead.

Variant Detonation was a Sacred Gear that allowed Heracles to create an explosion upon physical contact. To survive, Heracles had been forced to use his Balance Breaker form and detonate missile like objects from all over his body before the nine strikes truly struck him.

Silence filled the area, Heracles unable to believe he had lost in a confrontation, and the others too stunned to react.

"You haven't won," Heracles gritted out through his teeth, attempting to force himself back into battle. "A Hero who hides behind a mask isn't even a Hero!"

Veins bulged over Heracles's arms and legs, blue colored and pulsing, but his limbs simply refused to move.

Shirou approached step by step, the sword in his hands fading away into mots of magical light.

"True, I'm a man behind a mask, but if hiding one's identity was grounds to disqualify one as a hero," he said slowly. "Then why are you the one looked at as a villain?"

Heracles's mouth closed, finally taking the time to realize all the glares leveled on him by those he had considered to be weaklings; ironic that now any single one of them could probably beat him in his current state.

Heracles kept silent, but he couldn't endure the stares of those around him.

"A Hero doesn't need recognition," he said forcibly.

Shirou shook his head. Although he knew that Heracles words were true, there was still one point that Heracles was missing.

"I don't doubt your words, I even agree with them," Shirou said, stopping in front of Heracles. "But it's because you've said such words now that indicate that you don't understand."

Justification was all Heracles was looking for, a means to defend against the blow to his own self pride and arrogance. The only thing Heracles truly fought for.

Shirou glared, his eyes piercing bronze orbs that burned into Heracles's memory.

If Heracles didn't understand, then he would make him understand.

"A Hero needs purpose," he spoke strongly, voice unwavering. "Something that allows them to surpass their own limits."

He glanced at Irina.

She who was beaten, injured, and exhausted, yet was still able to stand when no one else could against an adversary she knew overpowered her.

Her courage was exceptional.

Her example one to exemplify.

His gaze turned back to Heracles.

"And you Heracles,"

He raised a hand, lightly tapping against Heracles's body and watching it crumble to the ground without support.

"You have none."

* * *

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	30. The Sword and Mysteries: Part 3

Wise men once said that there were certain vows that shouldn't be tested, like the Devil tempting Jesus to test God's protection at the bluffs of a cliff, but not all heed the warnings of wise men.

They who are led astray are the ones known to be ignorant.

In a lightly forested region of the dimension created through the Longinus-type Sacred Gear Dimension Lost, a group of individuals sat gathered around a roaring flame. Shadows flickered in the dimness of the tall trees, and embers gradually lifted into the air before flickering out as soot on the ground; the musky odour of smoke wafting into the sky as the crackling of the fire wood echoed with the sound of crickets.

A man stretched a hand out before him, before closing his palm and then shifting his attention to two others who remained brooding on the side. One was a handsome young man with long locks of silky silver hair that framed the sides of his face and crimson coloured eyes. A black-priest's coat was draped over his shoulders and its interior lining was decorated with a fine layer of gold and grey silk. The other man was more brutish, the clothes he wore were in disarray, and in fact, he had already been without his shirt from the moment he had staggered back to the current location.

These two were Siegfried and Heracles, and they were the current center of attention and focus of much speculation.

A sigh escaped the man's lips before he turned and spoke towards another colleague.

"George," he called out a name. "How certain are you that this masked-man isn't an intruder in this dimension?"

The one referred to as George was a young man with black hair and rimless spectacles who wore a mage-style robe over the black uniform he was wearing. He was a descendant of Johann Georg Faust, contractor of the Legendary Devil, Mephisto Pheles. Constantly under the shadow of his great predecessor, the pressure had caused him to seek his own path for recognition, eventually joining the Hero Faction.

He himself was the owner of the Sacred Gear, Dimension Lost which had the ability to create different spaces and barriers in Balance Breaker state. Thus, providing the current dimension.

George adjusted his glasses and considered the question for a moment before answering, a frown spreading over his face.

"At this point Cao Cao, its around ninety-percent," George said evenly. "If a person were to forcibly enter this dimensional space, then my Sacred would have had detected anomalies and spatial shifts that would indicate an intrusion. In this case, no such fluctuations or anomalies have had occurred. It's more likely that this masked individual stemmed from the batch of recruits forcibly brought here to join the faction."

"Hmm," Cao Cao hummed in thought.

He was a man of careful considerations and meticulous planning. He was never one to rush towards a simple conclusion or assumption. This was only natural as he was the descendant of Cao Cao a Chinese warlord and the penultimate Chancellor of the Eastern Han dynasty.

Therefore, he had always possessed a deeply analytical mind and a magnetism that was able to draw others to his cause with mere words alone. His rallying power was unquestionable, making him the undisputable leader of the Hero Faction. Perhaps even more terrifying was his intuition, and it alone was already causing him to doubt.

As such, he sat up and brushed his black-coloured hair away from his blue coloured eyes that peered at George inquisitively.

"Ninety-Percent? All things considered, that's a good number, but George, did you forget that you made special exceptions for the other leaders of the Khaos Brigade to give them free entry?"

George, almost scoffed, but Cao Cao's words were true. As the Hero Faction was currently a part of the Khaos Brigade, he couldn't just restrict the entry of others related to the Faction. As such, the leaders of the Khaos Brigade had authority to bring in other personnel into the dimension created in preparation for the attack on the Peace Talks. Thus, it was theoretically possible that some member of the Khaos brigade may have had brought the masked individual into the current dimension. Yet to George this was one of the most improbable outcomes.

To begin with, even if the Khaos brigade was a collection of Angels, Fallen-Angels, Devils, and Humans, it didn't mean that the different races stood united. The Hero Faction itself was an isolated group even within the Khaos Brigade. The Angels, Devils, and Fallen, even more so. Therefore, it was truly unlikely for any one of these faction leaders within the Khaos Brigade to bring in the masked individual to infiltrate the Hero Faction's ranks. To them, the Hero Faction was just a gathering of weak humans, something that could be easily snuffed out. Thus, none would bother to plant a spy of any kind.

"Your right that the leaders of the other factions within the Khaos brigade have exceptions, but it's unlikely that they would go to the trouble of planting a spy," George shook his head. "You may just be worrying over nothing Cao Cao. What I'm concerned about was that this person was strong enough to defeat Heracles."

Heracles glanced up and glared at George but wasn't able to rebut.

Cao Cao fell silent, ignoring everyone around him while a hand placed itself under his chin.

If this masked individual was in fact a member of the recent batch of people brought over to the Hero Faction, then perhaps this man could be recruited? The thought stuck in his mind as he casted a quick glance at Siegfried before discarding it.

From Siegfried's report, this masked individual was clearly capable of a high charisma, able to risk endangering Cao Cao's own authority within the Hero Faction.

The problem was, Siegfried had reported that out of the many recruits brought in to join the Hero Faction, over half were already swayed by the masked-man's words. Of course, the majority of these new recruits were the ones who had failed to attain their Balance Breakers and were the ones thrown aside, making them useless, but more and more actual members of the Hero Faction were going over to the side of the masked man.

Cao Cao knew just as well as Siegfried that he had to put a stop to the current events before it was too late, and yet having some internal dispute mere days before from the planned attack on the Peace Talks would damage the Hero Faction's reputation. Furthermore, he couldn't guarantee that he would be able to handle the matter without casualty.

Heracles had already gone despite Siegfried's warnings and his situation didn't turn out well.

Heracles had returned battered and beaten, a gloomy expression over his face that only got worse when George pressed him for details. Unexpectedly, Heracles refused to divulge any information, seemingly lost in thought and displaying a similar attitude as Siegfried. The two in differing states of confliction.

This alone was worrying for Cao Cao.

What exactly had this masked person done or said to influence Siegfried and Heracles so much? It was to the point where Siegfried refused to fight despite being the battle maniac he was. Heracles too didn't wish to fight until he had found some sort of purpose; an answer to the statement that the masked man had presented to him.

It was too jarring for Cao Cao to take at once, but he was quick to compose himself.

On the attack of the Peace Talks he had actually been requested to join in advance due to some disturbing rumour that God's light had once again reappeared. Unlikely as it was, Cao Cao himself was the most suitable countermeasure, for his Sacred Gear was the bane of God.

The True Longinus.

The spear that pierced the body of Jesus Christ.

It was the only known Longinus that could kill a God.

The first and most powerful.

Yet Cao Cao had no obligation to attend. He had his own plans that were still underway.

"Is Jeanne already in Kyoto?" Cao Cao asked.

George nodded his head.

"She's already there and has begun preparations against the Demons of Japan's Kyoto region." George crossed his arms before leaning his back against a tree. "All that's left is for us to rendezvous with her."

Cao Cao nodded his head. This was the prime time to act as all attention was focused on the Peace Talks. Thus, even if Cao Cao had been requested by the Khaos Brigade to join in on the attack, he had already refused. To begin with, what was the point of allying with the Khaos Brigade if they couldn't even deal with a Peace Talk on their own?

Still, there was an opportunity lying in the dark that Cao Cao quickly discovered with his keen mind.

"Send a message to the other Leaders of the Khaos Brigade, the Hero Faction will participate in this attack."

George's eyes widened, and both Heracles and Siegfried jolted from their pondering.

"You would abandon our plans for Kyoto?" George questioned, brows furrowing in confusion.

Cao Cao shook his head, a derisive smile crossing his lips before he stood up on his feet.

It was simply eliminating two birds with one stone, solving the problem of opposition and internal strife.

"It's not I who will be leading," Cao Co began slowly. "Instead, it will be our new friend and those that would join him. Win or lose, the situation would still play to our advantage."

* * *

It was fortunate that he had gotten back in time, otherwise he wouldn't have had known what would have had happened to Irina.

He carefully held her in his arms, mindful of applying too much pressure to her wounds. She felt small, nothing like how he expected her to feel like when she had first collapsed onto him for support.

He carried her away after bidding the others who were concerned for Irina's well being good bye.

His mouth thinned as he berated himself. If he hadn't taken so long rescuing the Angels then Irina may not have had become so injured. Furthermore, if it wasn't for the aid of the black cat revealing to him a hidden cave near the cliffside, then he may had taken even longer. The result of taking so much more time was something he didn't want to think about.

"Shirou," Irina called out weakly.

As of this moment, she became keenly aware that Shirou was carrying her firmly in his arms, the warmth from his body spreading to hers and causing a pleasant tingling sensation despite the pain of her wounds.

Heat began to rise to her face and she was surely working herself up into a fluster. However, it only looked as if her injuries were getting worse from an outside perspective.

"Shh," Shirou shushed her quiet, brows knitting together in concern. "Just let me take care of you for now. You've done enough."

Irina's mouth opened, and then closed, a silent exclamation escaping her lips from the embarrassment, but at the same time she felt content. Suddenly she could understand Xenovia's feelings. The way Shirou acted and his actions, none of it was planned. Instead, it was all natural, something that he would do without the slightest hesitation.

Carried in his arms, Irina felt something that she had not felt in several years, the rapid beating of her heart and a certain anxiousness that stemmed from a deeper part of herself. One of guilt and denial, for if she acknowledged the feeling, she was convinced that the future would become complicated.

Still, it was hard to deny, more so with how careful Shirou was being, his arms supporting her and allowing her to lean on his chest.

It was all his fault, her mind suddenly decided.

It was his fault that she was feeling this way.

She glared petulantly, but there was no heat in her gaze.

Instead, she grew abashed when Shirou gave her an inquisitive glance.

"Are you alright?" He asked, laying her down gently over a soft patch of grass.

She didn't respond, simply because she didn't completely trust her voice at the moment as Shirou began healing her injuries. Wherever his hands went, they were accompanied by the dull thrum of Holy Light that cleansed away her wounds and bruises. Even the fractures of her bones began to heal without any problems, leaving her only with the mental fatigue of coping with a phantom pain.

When he finished, Irina pulled her legs to her chest and hugged her knees, trying to make herself as small as possible, unable to meet Shirou's gaze.

"Thanks," she muttered out.

Still, it wasn't the time to mess around.

"Did you save those Angels?" She asked after a moment.

"Yes," Shirou said with a nod, finding his own place to sit across from Irina. "They're safe for now, and for some reason I feel that the cat that helped me should be able to keep them safe."

"A cat?"

"More or less," he answered uncertainly.

Thinking about the black cat, he somehow understood that there was more to it than what it seemed on the surface. Sona had once explained to him about the concepts of familiars, or strange mutation that occur within animals living in magical zones, but the cat's actions were too much for exaggerations. More so when it was able to write on a piece of paper and guarantee that it could somehow get the Angels out of the dimension. The fact that it knew a secret location on the cliff side was evidence enough that it's word may be able to be trusted.

"As long as they're safe," Irina sighed in relief.

She had always been a kind individual and to see others get hurt in front of her, she wouldn't stand by and do nothing. It was just this once, she felt for the first time how it was to fully rely on someone.

Shirou was someone she saw as unreachable.

God was part of him.

The Angels and Seraphim revered him.

But now that she had spent time with him alone and in person, she realized that he was no different from any other man. In fact, he was more considerate than most, more selfless than most, and more compassionate. She wouldn't even be surprised if he would aid devils like the Holy Maiden, Asia Argento.

She understood at this moment.

He wasn't someone that she could force herself away from.

She was sorry to Xenovia, but she couldn't hold herself back any longer.

She smiled, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"I see your feeling better," Shirou commented absently, unknowing of Irina's personal thoughts.

"I suppose," Irina agreed, brushing the dust off of her clothes before standing onto her feet. "Still, it's best that we return. Something seems to be going on."

Shirou raised a brow, but when he shifted his gaze in the direction Irina was staring at, he understood. Groups of Fallen Angels and Devils were gathering where he had left the other members of the Hero Faction.

Expressions growing pensive, he and Irina quickly returned.

Devils were lined on one side, and the Fallen on another. Angels however, were no longer present, the majority of them coming to a similar decision as the two Shirou had rescued.

The members of the Hero Faction that chose to follow Shirou and Irina were at the center, still weakened and feeling pressured from those around them.

"Ready yourselves by the eve of tomorrow," a Fallen Angel spoke. "You all will serve as the vanguard in the attack on the Peace Talks."

The members of the Hero Faction murmured to themselves, but none spoke out in fear of repercussions. Shirou himself remained quiet as he understood that a battle at present would do more harm than good. Many of those he wished to protect would end up dying as a result, and that was something he didn't wish to see.

He made a placating gesture, many from the Hero Faction having noticed him from the moment he had arrived. Gradually, they began to calm down, but not before the leader of the Fallen Angels and the leader of the Devils took note of Shirou.

From the perspective of the Fallen Angels, Shirou simply appeared as an individual that was insignificant, but to the current leaders of the Old Satan Faction leading the assault on the Peace Talks, it was a different matter entirely.

Katerea Leviathan was the current leader out of the three in charge of the newly formed Old Satan Faction. After the fall of the Demon Marbas, there was a distinct split with what the Old Satan Faction wanted, and what the New Satan Faction wanted. However, this split would grow into a solid line when Serafall Sitri and the other New Faction Devils took on the names of the Four Great Satans. It was unacceptable to the Old Satan Faction members who still wished to continue the war, more so for the real descendants of the Four Great Satans.

Katarea herself was included in this category as a true descendant of Leviathan, Demon of Envy of the Seven Deadly Sins and Serpent of the Abyss as depicted by the Satanic Bible.

As such, of the new Great Satans, the Satan she hated the most was Serafall Leviathan who had taken over her rightful place to rule the Underworld.

Only one was worthy enough for all Old Satan Faction members to begrudgingly acknowledge, and none of the new Great Satans could fill that role.

The role of the Demon Marbas.

The thing was however, she felt a chill travel down her back from the moment she stared at Shirou. Call it intuition, but a part of her was exceedingly weary; far more than she was for Cao Cao who carried that legendary spear.

"Lady Katarea," her attendant Alden Botis, a survivor from the civil war spoke up for her uncertainly. "That man, there's something peculiar about him."

Katarea merely nodded her head, she already understood that the heir of the Botis family had felt something similar to her. Regardless of what she felt though, it didn't matter so long as this masked individual would be fighting on their side. As such, she could hardly care less, and with another glance, she led her Devils away followed by the Fallen.

Shirou stared unblinkingly at their departure, but inside he was already attempting to come up with a plan to save everyone. He wasn't that much of a fool and he could understand what being sent as the vanguard for the attack on the Peace Talks meant.

They were to be fodder.

A means to test the strength of those gathered at the Peace Talks and at the same time to wear them out.

Naturally, he would never be willing to actually instigate an attack on his friends, let alone allow others to do so. Therefore, he was wracking his mind for any solution as he didn't want the innocent people brought forcibly by the Hero Faction to die either.

However, he couldn't come up with anything right away, rather it was Irina who provided him the means to an answer.

"Why don't we just run away?" Irina asked.

Just as he was about to respond at how improbable that idea would be, he froze when he considered the fact that they would be the vanguard. They would be the first to strike, and as such would be given a small window of time to act before others would be able to catch on.

This could work.

With that thought in mind, he went on explaining to the others around him who would follow him on the attack at the Peace Talks.

After all.

Preparations needed to be done.

* * *

In a flash of magical energy, Shirou, Irina and the others appeared from a magic circle that transferred them out of the dimension that they were once in.

Familiar buildings and roadsides greeted both of their views, but neither of the two could stick around for too long before heading on out. Their current location required them to make haste towards Kuoh Academy and the defensive barrier surrounding it; the charge itself would take at least twenty minutes before arrival.

As such, their window of opportunity was only twenty minutes long.

From what he understood, the reason why they had appeared farther away from Kuoh Academy than normal was to prevent unnecessary problems for the group of magicians that would act beforehand. This group of magicians were simply hired for the job and they were tasked with putting down Kuoh Academy's barrier and securing some Devil with the Sacred Gear called the Forbidden Balor View.

Shirou was then supposed to act as the vanguard and begin the assault on the Peace Talks, but he had other plans.

"Go!" He called forth immediately.

Even from where he and Irina were, they could already see the work of the magicians breaking down Kuoh Academy's barrier. Even if they had twenty minutes, it still wasn't very much time.

He leapt up a building followed closely by Irina and the group of several hundred behind her.

All of them were careful of being spotted by any innocents on the streets, and even more careful of drawing attention in the small time-frame they had before the leaders of the Khaos brigade understood their betrayal. There was a certain magic that shrouded them from the ignorant, but the more supernaturally aware individuals would be able to notice them soon.

He knew that this plan was risky, but he had no other choice than to go through with it when it meant being able to save as many as possible.

Magical explosions sounded out near Kuoh, causing Irina to purse her lips in worry and Shirou to pick up the pace even further. The only destination he could think of to hide the current people by his side was the warehouse he had previously visited during the incident with Valper and Holy Sword Excalibur.

Unfortunately, twenty minutes was far from enough time.

The rest of the Khaos brigade appeared in droves, the Fallen Angels and Devils comprising a large majority of the numbers. As soon as they appeared, they were quick to notice the absence of the Hero Faction's attacking force but were unable to do anything about it lest they waste the opportunity the magicians had already provided.

Kuoh's magical barrier was down, and for some reason or another, there was a restrictive magic that was freezing the time of all within it.

Katarea grit her teeth in anger but she knew what it was that she had to do along with the Fallen Angels.

They ignored Shirou and the others for the time being and attacked.

Of course, this agitated Shirou greatly, his hands balling into fists, and expression growing furious. Yet he couldn't do anything about it. So long as he turned around and moved towards Kuoh to aid Sirzechs and the others, those behind him would surely follow. Weakened as they were, they would die in waves.

Besides, it would only take five more minutes.

Five more minutes before he and the rest would arrive at the warehouse.

But plans never go accordingly.

His eyes dilated as he shifted his body to the side; a flash of steel passing by his gaze that cleanly cut through the hard ground, leaving behind a laceration that spread on for several meters.

"I suggest you surrender?" A cold voice echoed out.

Shirou stiffened, for the voice itself was familiar.

Older now and more refined, but he was still able to recognize the childish tone that had once looked up to him for training.

The child that he had parted with in the Underworld.

The youth who had called out his name in the honour of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

Adelina Swiftblade stood a small distance away from him and the rest, her eyes like daggers in their ferocity.

She had taken a stroll across Kuoh in hopes of finding an heir of Marbas on her journey, but instead she was alerted of the current situation of the Peace Talks and had immediately made to intervene. However, she had spotted Shirou and the rest on her way back and quickly grew suspicious. Such a large group of unknown individuals appearing at such a time could only mean that they were part of the group attacking Kuoh.

For what reason they were running in the opposite direction of Kuoh she didn't really care. It could be some plan of sorts by the enemy, but this was where it would end.

She took a stance, a hand moving towards the hilt of her long-sword strapped to her waist.

"Irina," Shirou called out softly. "Take everyone and go. I've already explained to you where to take them."

Irina knit her brows together. "But we don't have to fight," she argued.

For all intents and purposes, Adelina was on the same side as he and Irina.

However, he still shook his head.

He knew that he could explain the situation to Adelina, but the process could take a precious amount of time, and at the same time, would Adelina actually believe him? Of course, he knew of one method that could definitely persuade her with a hundred-percent certainty, but now still wasn't the hour for that.

It was a box of dilemmas that he wouldn't open until it was absolutely necessary.

Besides, he would have to explain the issue to the one's behind him as well if he did so now.

Noticing his expression, Irina could only nod before gesturing for the others to follow her.

Left behind, Adelina only raised a brow to Irina's and the others departure, but she didn't give chase.

After all, the one in front of her was releasing a heavy pressure.

It wasn't magical energy or anything like that, instead, it was made out of pure intent and resolve.

This wasn't a man she could take on while distracted, she understood that from a glance, but at the same time, she noticed that her hands were shivering.

It was subtle, and not something that she should ever have had been concerned with, but she had never once trembled at the face of an opponent. Not since her youth. She felt no fear at the moment, no indication of a primal terror that could give rise to such a reaction.

Therefore, what was it?

The memories of her childhood surfaced in her mind for one reason or another.

Fleeting and ephemeral, but they were enough to unnerve her.

Her grip tightened around the hilt of her blade, the focus in her eyes intensifying as the perspective she had of her opponent shifted.

 _It was a power she had not seen in numerous years._

"Trace," a deep voice, calm and piercing. "On."

Those words.

That type of magic.

They were all too familiar.

 _"To be strong, one must practice. To fight until one is strong enough to never grow hungry again."_

For a moment his image flashed in her mind, the Last Demon of the Underworld and the back that had supported her on that day. Unexpectedly her mouth grew dry as a growing anxiety took root within her. More so when she realized that her opponent was now directly in front of her, and her eyes noting the very weapon in his hands.

Alarm bells rang in her mind like the blaring of siren lights.

She pivoted, the motion generating sparks as her sword grated against the edge of another.

A blade of simple steel and make.

The length of which was near two meters from the hilt to the base.

She nearly stilled in surprise, and in fact she did, but her body had reacted on its own after years of training.

She struck up; using her momentum to catch the base of her opponent's sword and lashed out with a kick.

Yet she moved no further, spoke no further.

There was a sort of silence that filled the air. One of tension, agitation, and confusion.

Adelina's will to fight had long since dissipated with the appearance of that sword.

Internally, Shirou sighed in relief. It had been a gamble if she would be able to recognize it or not, but in any case, the Monohoshi Zao may as well have had been the sword she most remembered him by.

He hefted it over his shoulder, twirling it and flicking off the dust and grime that had clung to it in the previous exchange in a single motion.

"You, who are you?" Adelina pressed for an answer, expression faltering; by now convinced at a single assumption.

With the re-emergence of the Magic Crest of Marbas, she was certain that with the abilities Shirou had displayed, he was somehow directly related to her current assignment. More than that, it was the familiarity in the way that Shirou stood and acted without talking that greatly reminded her of her once Young Lord.

She swallowed, feeling nervous.

Shirou simply stared for a moment longer before glancing back at Kuoh Academy and estimating how long it would take for him to arrive. Nonetheless, he wouldn't allow himself to waste anymore time. With Irina helping the others, he had nothing else left to worry about.

His sword came to rest in front of him, held loosely by his right hand.

"It doesn't matter who I am," he said resolutely, turning his back towards Adelina and heading towards Kuoh. "All that matters are that there are people to save."

"And that's more than enough reason."

Adelina bit her lips, her expression clouding over. She understood the intent behind his words, but she couldn't comprehend it. She could tell from a glance that Shirou was human, therefore he had no obligation to aid the three factions in Kuoh. It was incomprehensible and not something that just anyone would do.

"Why help them?" She couldn't stop the words from escaping out of her mouth; her body sprinting forward and intercepting Shirou's path.

He paused in his steps, staring at her once more with his back straight and determination set. She would only continue to hinder him unless he gave her a reason that she could accept. Very well, then he would give her one regardless of the future outcome.

He couldn't care less anymore.

The minutes were going by and perhaps at any second, more individuals would die. It was true that he now placed more value in his own life, but he still took the lives of others as greater than his own. Thus, he didn't hesitate to sacrifice his own peaceful future. Besides, it was time to face the consequences of his past actions, for it would save those who were still grieving for a man that wasn't dead.

"You don't need a reason to save others," he said evenly, placing a hand on her shoulder and causing her to stiffen and then bristle.

She would have had sliced that hand off it were anyone else, but at this point, and at such a close proximity, she finally realized why this masked individual's voice sounded so familiar.

Its gentle hum.

Its patience.

Tears suddenly began to well in her eyes.

T-This was-

"Because little Adelina, that's the duty of a Lord. A Guardian Nobility of the Seventy-Two Pillars."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Note: I've been admitted to a hospital for the time being on an IV drip for cellulitis on my leg after it got infected by an insect bite. I've currently got a needle constantly stuck in my left arm for the IV, but at least I still have my right. Sorry for delays as I intended this update for yesterday but got held down by hospital waiting times.**


	31. The Sword and Mysteries: Part 4

Fires and magical light erupted around the campus before she could even grasp what it was that had happened, tendrils of lightning like arcs and heat scorching black the pavement and school walls.

The tar from the roads even began to melt and fizzle, large bubbling protrusions of sediment and gravel unearthing and frothing on the surface as a magic barrier flashed in and out. Complex magical formulas and seals frequently rotated along the axis of the barrier, unwinding and slowly breaking apart. The instability of the barrier was only growing more apparent with time, and many knew the significance of that barrier. It was the one used to help safe-guard the current Peace Talks between the three Factions currently in Kuoh.

Sona had exhausted herself in the past couple of days, adamantly remaining ignorant to her sister's persistent inquires. If the guilt alone wasn't enough, it was the fact that she herself wasn't fully convinced. So long as there was a chance that Shirou could be Marbas, it was impossible for her to completely justify herself. As a result, she hadn't been eating and was constantly distracted, unable to maintain a single trail of thought before falling into whispered murmurs to assure herself.

The only thing that mattered to her then was the current date, and how much longer she would have to endure. Only now that the day had arrived, she found that perhaps enduring for another week would have had been a far better alternative.

Her mouth had set itself into a frown long ago, but she knew that it wasn't the time to stare absently at the damages on Kuoh. Instead she had to act.

Yet it was difficult.

Her arms and muscles strained from the mere action of walking and sweat had already began to pool from her brow, droplets trailing down her face before dripping from her chin.

The rest of her peerage remained frozen in place before her, their expressions still plastered with shock from when the attack initially began. They were simply unable to move, nor hear, nor speak, and she herself already understood the reason why.

Their time had been stopped.

They wouldn't be able to react to anything at the moment, and her mind already gave her an explanation.

The Forbidden Balor View.

The Sacred Gear capable of stopping time.

To be honest, she would have had been affected as well, but the protective magics her elder sister had left on her person were able to momentarily halt the power affecting her. As such, she could still move stiffly despite being under the effects of the Forbidden Balor View, but it was getting increasingly difficult as more time passed.

It was already to the point where she could hardly move her fingers to turn the knob of the Student Council Room's door.

She breathed heavily, her eyes narrowed as she could no longer move her left arm, the magical light of the Sitri magic crest waning until its light was but a dull glow.

Her mind worked meticulously yet lasting much longer would be impossible.

Her left arm flailed by her side, dangling listlessly.

Stubbornly though, she held on; her complexion paling as her body swayed, finding stability by leaning on a wall.

There was still something that she could do.

"Mine is the power of house Sitri, descendant of the Demon of the leopard's head and griffin's wings," she spoke hoarsely, extending her right palm forward.

Her magic crest extended outwards, the sigil of the three crosses held by a half-sphere fluctuating with a reddish hue.

Magic the likes of which she was invoking required a high toll on her magical reserves. The fact that she had to chant the words rather than mentally will the magic to take shape and manifest spoke of its difficulty.

"My right is by blood, and my magic the proof that compels thee."

Her elder sister had placed down a certain magic around Kuoh Academy using the family crest of house Sitri. It was made in preparation for any drastic developments and worked as a safeguard in the case of a dire emergency. An attack on the campus clearly qualified.

Her expression grew stern as the strain on her body increased. Nonetheless, she persevered.

"I am Sona of House Sitri,"

The Sitri magic crest found on herself and her peerage began to shine in a brilliant blue light.

"And I activate this seal!"

* * *

Serafall hadn't been in the best of moods from the moment the Peace Talks had began, and it only grew worse as time passed.

As a representative of the Underworld, she knew well enough that she had a responsibility to uphold the current peace of the Underworld and maintain its integrity. It was a part of her duty; a part of the oath she had made on that day when she took up the name of Leviathan. Thus, her participation at the Peace Talks was of the utmost importance and not something she could simply dismiss.

And yet, she had been doing so for at least an entire fourth of the meeting, her expression brooding, and posture closed off. Her legs were crossed together, and the way her arms remained tucked beneath her chest only further emphasized this point.

Gabriel had glanced at her direction more than once, the naïve innocence of Heaven's greatest beauty only making her more irritable.

Serafall clicked her tongue and glanced away. She and Gabriel had never been on good terms, and she currently didn't want to deal with her at the moment. Instead, all that mattered to her right now was the glowing symbol of Marbas recorded in the family registry in her hands.

It was all the proof that she needed.

He or she was here.

A relative to the man who meant more to her than any honorary title or position.

And she owed it to Kuro to watch over his family, like he had once done for her. A young lady that became a commander in a Civil War she had been too ignorant to realize would result in her own misery.

The reality of her own powerlessness and inability to save the man she cared for the most. The one who died in her arms.

Her mood soured further, an empty self-loathing darkening her expression, and making her more guarded as the meeting progressed.

No one understood her. Not even her younger sister. How could she ever describe the hope, anxiety, and desperation that nearly overwhelmed her when Adelina had shown her the family registry? How could she describe the loathing, fury, and animosity she felt when once again it was Sirzechs standing in the way of her goal?

She knew Sirzechs, and she knew Sona. It wasn't hard for her to detect the guilt in their expressions and their unwillingness to answer her inquires even though it was clear that their answers were hurting her.

What kind of truth were they hiding that they'd believe that she'd do something drastic anyway?

The more she thought on it, the more her lips thinned.

Her silence was a constant in the Peace Talks, her mind too preoccupied.

Sirzechs did most of the talking and negotiations as Azazel, Michael, and Gabriel supplied their own conditions. When it came to her turn, she was far from receptive, but she did answer from time to time, yet not often enough to have had contributed anything substantial.

In a way, her current attitude resembled Xenovia's who remained standing at attention on a corner of the meeting room opposite from where Rias and a portion of her peerage stood. Cold and expressionless, simply waiting as if the meeting had nothing to do with her.

It was a far cry from the carefree and honest personality Serafall generally carried and Sirzechs understood this the most because he had known her the longest.

Still, no matter how Sirzechs currently felt about the situation, he was too close to the end of the Peace Talks to jeopardize everything now.

He cleared his throat.

"If peace is to truly be carried out, we must all first put up a certain level of trust," Sirzechs said.

"Naturally," Michael agreed, head nodding before continuing. "I trust Ascalon is enough of a gift to reveal Heaven's sincerity?"

"Yes, yes indeed," Sirzechs replied hurriedly, a hand scratching awkwardly at the back of his head.

In regards to Ascalon, the Dragon Slaying sword, none had benefitted from it more than Issei Hyoudo, Rias's pawn.

It need not be said that Rias was Sirzechs's younger sister, and anything to her benefit would always please Sirzechs. Therefore, the fact that Ascalon was a major improvement to Rias's peerage had already been more than enough to earn Sirzechs's approval. It was just that he wasn't shameless enough to speak up for it on Serafall's behalf.

Thus, he simply glossed over the matter, hoping that Serafall would remain as silent as she had been from the beginning.

Fortunately, Serafall was too preoccupied to care.

"Then if everything's in order," Azazel grinned. "I believe that we've all come to agreeable terms?"

There were several nods of approval, but there was something distinct that had occurred at that moment.

Vali Lucifer, a descendant of the original Lucifer shifted his gaze to glance outside the meeting room. He was a child picked up by Azazel and raised in the Fallen Angel's institute called the Grigori.

A youth of a tall stature and a robust build, his power alone was enough to dwarf any new aspiring Devils, Fallen, or Angels. A chain was attaching to the slim-black pants he wore which clinked with his every movement, making it all the more eye-catching when he walked towards the only window of the room.

His light-blue coloured eyes narrowed, tufts of his silver coloured hair steadily rising as he called upon his magical power.

Everyone else immediately tensed, Serafall included as she sensed a familiar power.

In the next second, a shockwave rocked out across the campus, gale-force winds and upheaved earth and stone pelting strongly against the magical barrier surrounding Kuoh. What made matters worse was the sudden pulse of energy that soon suffocated the surrounding area afterwards, leaving only the meeting room which was lined with stronger magical seals unaffected.

It was an energy that caused one to stiffen, and the very world to come to a halt.

"Gasper!" Rias said in panic.

Of everyone present, she was the most perceptive to the power of the Forbidden Balor View. It was only recently that Gasper was released from his confinement due his inability to control his Sacred Gear. For it to run rampant at this time, the consequences were too severe.

Moreover, could it be a coincidence?

Hastily Rias activated her Magic Crest to communicate with Koneko who she knew for certain had been with Gasper.

No response.

It was the same no matter how many times she had tried, her expression falling more and more distressed as time passed on.

Azazel glanced at Michael, Gabriel, Sirzechs, and Serafall before stating the obvious.

"Magicians," Azazel said sternly. "Only they would have had been able to understand the mechanics of the defensive barrier around Kuoh to be able to sneak within it. And from the looks of it, they had the uncontrollability of the Forbidden Balor View in mind."

"T-Then Gasper and Koneko?"

Silence.

"Its likely that they are in the enemy's custody," Sirzechs said solemnly. "Gasper still has his uses due to his Sacred Gear, but I fear that Koneko may not be in such a situation."

Rias swallowed, but her eyes already spoke of her conviction, yet she knew that it would be difficult for her elder brother to willingly allow her to be willful in this situation. He had always been over protective, but as it would turn out though, she wouldn't have to voice anything.

"Then we have to hurry and save them!" Issei said hurriedly, already moving towards the exit of the room much to Azazel's exasperation. "Hey, it won't open?"

"Are you an idiot?" Azazel called, appearing behind Issei and hauling him back to where everyone else stood. "That door obviously won't open so easily. This room is protected by a higher level magical barrier than the one surrounding Kuoh Academy's exterior."

"Then how are we supposed to go and save them?" Issei asked impatiently, his concern and character causing Xenovia who had remained still throughout the meeting to recall the personality of a certain red-head.

Her expression softened from its dull monotone, her attention shifting to Michael and Gabriel in hesitation and indecision.

"If you're asking how you're going to get there, isn't this more than enough of an answer?"

Dropping Issei onto his feet, Azazel motioned towards Sirzechs, and a glowing transportation seal soon manifested.

"I had placed this magic seal as a last precaution. I never would have had assumed it would be used in this way," Sirzechs said helplessly, genuinely nervous when Rias stepped into it without hesitation before he could even begin to dissuade her.

It was evident that she knew his personality well enough that she left immediately, Issei, Asia, Akeno, and Kiba following soon after.

Sirzechs sighed heavily, feeling somewhat dejected at the current situation, more so when Vali didn't even greet him before entering the seal.

Azazel could only shrug in response to Vali's behaviour.

Off to the side, Michael glanced at the way Xenovia was discreetly eyeing him and Gabriel for approval before he then nodded his head.

Xenovia's expression brightened before she set her face into one of indifference. She nodded once before her body moved and entered the magical seal Sirzechs had produced just before the energy supplying it exhausted itself.

Gabriel smiled at Michael.

"For someone who seemed so cold, she cares a lot about others," Gabriel said warmly.

"It is in her faith. Her light of compassion. Besides," Michael straightened his back. "You must have felt it to, the power of Father's miracle held in that blade. With its protection, there is nothing to fear."

Gabriel fell silent for a moment, before considering it herself. "She will be someone of great importance in the future."

Michael simply nodded his head, but there was a more pressing matter that all left in the meeting room understood.

A shimmering crack formed over the door, a sign of a breach into the magical barrier surrounding the room. Where one cracked formed, another appeared until one by one, it created a complex web of lines that immediately shattered.

The seal had been broken.

In succession, Sirzechs, Serafall, Azazel, Michael, and Gabriel stood up on their feet; the leaders of the Three Factions of Heaven, the Fallen, and Devils facing the adversaries before them.

Rows upon rows of Devils and Fallen Angels encompassed their vision, the majority of them spreading out and creating a circled perimeter that entrapped the leaders.

They were the race that lurks in the dark, and the sinners who beat their pinioned wings amidst the clouds and rain.

Staring at them, Michael and Gabriel were pleasantly surprised. Not one Angel appeared in opposition, neither of the two knowing that the Angels that had once been a part of the group had already resigned.

Nonetheless, this fact alone didn't take away from the severity of the situation.

Sirzechs and the others were on their own. The guards and processions loyal to them bound by the time magic of the Forbidden Balor View.

Yet even in this moment, fear was the last thing Sirzechs and the others felt.

For who were they if not the strongest of their Factions?

Michael of the Seraphim. Archangel and leader of God's armies.

The Guardian of the Church and the Holy Faith. He the Angel who had always stood at God's side. Magnanimity, charity, and benevolence, he encompassed them all; his light one that shone even in the darkest of hours. A light that banishes the dark.

Twelve wings of the purest gold extended out, feathers unruffled and releasing a radiance that was dazzling.

In comparison, Gabriel, the Messenger of God shone with her own uniqueness. A Holy white that was similar to the light that had taken away the Underworld's Last Demon. For Gabriel's strength was her faith, God was her strength. His light shining from within her. Her disposition alone had never been one that been tainted by greed, jealousy, envy, or any such emotion. All of her being and strength was a reflection of her devotion. Her naivety and innocence were no coincidence, it was a part of her, none of it an act.

When God had blessed her, his light remained within her, a pious believer.

Her light was imbued with God's. A weaker form of God's Light.

The very same light that haunted Serafall's nightmares.

Honestly speaking, Serafall didn't truly mind Gabriel for her personality, but one of the reasons she could never get along with her was her possession of power akin to God's Light. For it was what had ultimately taken Kuro away from her.

Heaven's leaders released their strength in full, and nearest to them, their Fallen brother did the same.

Twelve Wings of a never ending black, feathers the colour of the night's sky.

Azazel of the Grigori, Leader of the Fallen Angels.

He alone with the few who fell with him from the Heavens had established a third Faction in a world already plagued in a war between the Angels and Devils. Scientist and inventor, he was the Fallen Angel who taught man the art of war in the ancient times. Moreover, he was a Fallen like none other. A foe that not even Heaven or the Underworld had been able to suppress.

Out of the three Factions, he was the oldest leader. Heaven had lost their God. The Devils their Seventy-Two Demons and Four Great Satans. Yet the Fallen Angels, what had they lost? Their mightiest had yet to perish.

Still, just because the other factions had lost their leaders didn't mean that they were weak.

Sirzechs and Serafall released their own sort of pressure.

The two were Ultimate-Class Devils, Sirzechs on a category of his own. A Super-Class Devil whose strength could wipe out an entire dimension if left uncontrolled. Bat-like wings extended out from back, and a lingering aura of crimson energy began emanating outwards with him at its center. It was the magic belonging to the House of Bael.

That which was inherited by purity of blood and the power able to eliminate the existence of all.

The strength of the Great King of the Underworld.

The Power of Destruction.

The glare in Sirzechs's eyes may have had been even more intimidating than the light energy generated from Michael.

As for Serafall, nothing too substantial had occurred for she was unlike Sirzechs with his ability and overwhelming magical reserves. As such, although she possessed significantly large magical reserves, she focused more on control. The temperature around her began to plummet, the heat of her breath producing white vapours of condensed droplets of liquid water and ice. The beginnings of condensation.

That was when the snow steadily began to fall, pale and soft flakes floating down from the sky and clinging onto the ground.

 _The world of white._

Azazel and the rest had heard stories of the Underworld's Civil War, but among them and amidst the adoration for Sirzechs and Ajuka, was the event of a frozen battlefield. Limbs had laid shattered, bodies eternally preserved in a hoarfrost that never melted. An entire army reduced into pallid and pale sculptures decorated with icicles.

Sirzechs, Serafall, Michael, Gabriel, and Azazel, they were each powerhouses of their factions. None of them present were incapable of standing their own against a difference in numbers. Their capabilities were already proven.

Which was why no matter how many members the Khaos Brigade had, not one had yet to initiate an attack. Instead, it was a sort of deadlock.

Katarea herself was unwilling to initiate until she withdrew a container containing a serpent from her magic crest. The power granted by the Dragon of Infinity. She crushed it in her palms, consuming the power for herself, and growing exceedingly confident.

Alden Botis who was watching from the side detested the use of such an external power, but he wouldn't express his displeasure towards his current superior. Instead, as he noticed Katarea's growing confidence, he gestured for the other members in the Devil's Faction of the Khaos Brigade to maneuver a short distance away.

He had been with Katarea long enough to understand who exactly she would single out from the opponent's side.

There was no point getting caught up in a battle he knew wouldn't be able to make a difference in the Underworld, win or lose.

As expected, before any form of conversation could begin, Katarea attacked, following Serafall Leviathan closely as the Great Satan dodged and distanced herself from Sirzechs and the rest. Anyone could see this battle for what it was though, a personal one.

Sirzechs hadn't intervened because he understood Serafall and trusted in her capabilities. Katarea wouldn't be able to defeat her.

Yet in any case, from Alden Botis's point of view, it still didn't matter.

Serafall's position in the Underworld was unique. Even if she were to fall, it may not result in anything substantial as her influence stemmed not only from her family, but from the Lands of Marbas. If she were to resign as a Great Satan, then no changes could probably occur in the Underworld as Serafall had left most of the administrations to those capable in her family and in the Land of Marbas. Adelina Swiftblade was one such example.

Alden's eyes narrowed.

Sirzechs on the other hand, was a different matter entirely.

Besides, past grudges were meant to be paid.

The Devils in the Khaos Brigade mainly consisted of Devils from the Old Satan Faction who couldn't agree on the qualifications for the New Four Great Satans to rule. How could they, when many themselves were the direct blood related relatives?

As such, the Devils of the Khaos Brigade surrounded Sirzechs alone.

The Fallen Angels on the other hand surrounded Azazel, Michael, and Gabriel.

In the course of about a dozen seconds, three distinct battlefields had been created. The first of which was becoming the most heated.

* * *

Two comet-like figures crashed through Kuoh Academy's school grounds, the reverberation shattering the nearby windows and creating a shower of glass that shot outwards like shrapnel.

"What right do you have to take my name!" Katarea seethed, red colouring her vision as the power within her swelled along with her confidence.

The magic seal of Leviathan pulsed around her, shards of ice and water shooting outwards and boring holes into the ground. Stone, concrete, and steel were like paper in the face of Katarea's abilities, unable to maintain shape, twisting and moaning as the infrastructure itself crumbled.

Serafall only scoffed.

Her arms were crossed in front of her and the majority of Katarea's attacks were firmly lodged into the wall of ice she had summoned. From behind her, a magic seal was forming and gathering into a glacier-like mass.

Her frame of mind wasn't as idle as it generally was. This wasn't the Serafall Leviathan that Sona knew, but the Serafall Sitri of the Civil War of the Underworld.

The attack came before Katarea could even react, a towering mound of ice crushing her with its sheer weight alone.

Serafall landed lightly on the ground, her feet twisting along with her momentum and the magical girl skirt she wore fluttering parallel to her exposed thighs.

"HHehehehaaaa," a laugh echoed from in front of her, a sudden burst of power shattering the ice into a rain of hail that scattered outwards.

Katarea stood at the center, expression euphoric. The low-cut dress she wore with a high slit that exposed her tanned bosom was slightly ruffled, but there was no damage to her person whatsoever.

"Is that all the power a Great Satan who took on the name of Leviathan possesses?" Katarea jeered.

The strength she had obtained from Ophis's snake was not a simple additive factor of one value plus another, but a multiplier. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Katarea had achieved the boundary of what separated a High-Class Devil from an Ultimate-Class Devil.

Serafall understood this, and she still would have had easily been able to maintain her control of the battlefield through her experience and power, if not for the words Katarea then said.

"You were unfit to earn the fancy of the Last Demon of the Underworld," she said scornfully, a hand pushing up the square framed glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose. "You? A fake not even deserving of the name Leviathan, what kind of dirty trick did you use to swindle a marriage from Lord Marbas?"

Serafall's hands balled into fists, her teeth clenching in her mouth, yet her silence prompted Katarea to continue in mockery.

"He was the weapon that the Four Great Satans had reserved as their last," Katarea said with pride. "With a swing of his hands, the very earth was wrought asunder by his aura, a malevolent black that denoted his capability."

Katarea's eyes narrowed on Serafall in contempt. "And you wasted it," she whispered accusingly.

"Not only did you stray him from the correct path, but you bent his desires to match yours. How else would it have had been possible for the New Satan Faction to garner his support? If the Old Satan Faction had found him first then-"

"Shut up!"

Serafall's eyes were cold, her expression devoid of any emotion.

It was like the blank slate of winter, a barren ground, desolate, yet exceedingly biting.

The memories of Kuro wouldn't stop playing in her head. The Lonely Demon whose existence had remained hidden for all of his life, only to experience pain and hardship upon finally stepping out into the world.

He helped others when others had never helped him before.

He fought for a dream whose making wasn't his own.

An existence that was never meant to exist, for the time of Demons had long since passed.

"What do you even know!?" She couldn't stop the words from coming out of her mouth, her voice unable to hide her fury. "You know absolutely nothing!"

Katarea staggered back in surprise. No, more than that; Katarea stared in horror as frost began to steadily crawl up from her arms, the piercing cold entering her bones.

Kuro was a man Serafall understood better than anyone else in the Underworld. Everything Katarea was saying was a slight against the man who had laid down his life for the sake of others.

"He was kind, kinder than anyone else!"

She said, her body trembling as the emotions she had kept bottled up inside her exploded forth. Her magical power erupted.

This wasn't a controlled power, but a reckless release that instantly froze the area around her; a blizzard forming in the air.

"He was compassionate!"

The Seal of Marbas left on her palms shone, the Seal of Sitri overlapping.

The advantages of marriage between the Demons of the Underworld wasn't just about the preservation of blood, but the power of compatibility.

Sitri, the Demon of the Leopard's head and the Griffin's wings.

Marbas, the Lion of the Underworld.

The two seals overlapped and joined in a manner that Serafall had not thought possible as she had never been so reckless with her magic. And yet in this moment, the symbol of the twin keys and the three crosses held by a halfsphere opened a swirling void at its center.

Magical energy never before seen bathed Serafall in a dim light, her strength increasing with her emotions as the image of a chimera formed within the snow of the blizzard around her.

The heads of a lion and a leopard.

And the body and wings of a Griffin.

Katarea didn't know how to react. The energy Serafall was releasing, even if it was just for a moment, it contained the same malevolence as a Demon's.

Katarea shuddered, goosebumps travelling down her back and causing fear to take root within her. Facing a Devil was one thing, but a Demon was another. There was a reason why the Hero Marbas had been so easily accepted by both the new and the old Satan Faction in the Civil War; the inherent dominance a Demon naturally possessed was more than enough.

"G-Get away!" Katarea retreated, her legs fueled by both adrenaline and magic.

She instantly leapt off of the ground, but it didn't matter. No matter what she did, or what attack she threw out, Serafall never left her side.

"A leader whose strength was greater than any other, fiercer than any other!"

A shard of ice pierced into Katarea's arm, a scream of anguish echoing out that was quickly muffled by the snow.

"He cared not for the sake of his own benefit, but for the good of those around him!"

The shard of ice expanded, tendril like roots digging into Katarea's arm and crippling it with a single motion.

Katarea bit her lips, forcing down the pain that reverberated within her as she used the time that Serafall wasn't moving to gain distance. Blood dripped in a steady stream, colouring the debris beneath in a vivid red.

Serafall stared impassively, her eyes devoid of mercy.

"You dare sully his name in front of me?" She said, her body moving her forward step after step. "How could someone like you ever understand?!"

Horror gripped Katarea's heart like a vice. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

She struggled to maintain her sanity while staying on her feet.

With the power that the Dragon of Infinity had granted to her, not even Sirzechs should have had been able to faze her let alone the one who had stolen her birthright.

She grew mad at the next moment, unwilling to see reality for what it was.

All that mattered as despair flooded her being, was that she got back at the woman who wronged her. And how else if not to strike at the most obvious point.

"Then where is he now?"

Katarea's voice was soft, haggard from the cold and the damage to her body.

Yet Serafall froze, her heart lurching within her chest as the magical energy welling from within her visibly wavered.

"If you knew him so well, then why did he still die?"

Katarea wobbled on her feet, her body unable to maintain its balance and falling on her side. Yet still she spoke. The words being her last as the ice around her smothered her in an eternal embrace.

Serafall stood unmoving, gaze hollow and despondent, her arms wrapped around herself.

Her magic had always leaned more towards ice, making her used to cold temperatures, but now standing alone within the storm that warded others away, she felt colder than she had ever felt in her life.

She swallowed, gaze sweeping towards some of the other members of the Khaos Brigade looking in her direction before pursing her lips and disregarding them.

She wasn't able to stop it.

The damn that was about to burst from within her.

Not after she realized a single key point.

The sheer power that lay dormant within her after the exchanging of the magic crests of Marbas and Sitri. A power she had had at her disposal even at that specific point in the Civil War.

Infuriated as she was while she had attacked Katarea, she herself could sense the changes in her magic better than anyone.

 _The remnants left behind through the influence of All the World's Evil._

A magic that was similar to that of a Demon's and that which was proven to counter God's Light by Kuro himself.

And it was because of this realization that the final words Katarea had said seemed to take away her soul.

 _"If you had this kind of power,"_

The words were scornful even in death.

 _"Then why did you let Lord Marbas die?"_

* * *

 **Thanks for Reading!**

 **Note: My trips to the hospital after a spider bite and infection are officially over. All that's left is recovery for the next few days. So thank you all for the concern!**


	32. The Sword and Mysteries: Part 5

Watching his back fading away from view, Adelina didn't know what to think before she felt the knot forming in her chest tighten until it was unbearable. It wasn't a feeling that was painful or intrusive, but one that was born from melancholy and familiarity. Making it all the more noticeable as a gasp escaped her lips.

Her arm subconsciously reached forward, trying to grasp out for that which she had assumed for the longest time had been unattainable.

"M-My Lord," she stuttered in a daze, the tears that had welled up in her eyes gradually trickling down her face yet she unaware of it.

She could still remember the day that she had first met him. The Hero who would put an end to the Civil War that had split apart the Underworld and ruined the lives of many simply seeking to live a life without starving.

She had been one of them.

A child who had been powerless to stop the death of her father and could only uselessly cower behind the leg of her mother.

She held no illusions about what would have had happened if the Young Lord hadn't shown up back then. Death or slavery would have had been the only outcomes, and they weren't something she wanted to think about now that she had grown strong enough to ward away her oppressors.

That back slowly fading away from view didn't possess the malevolence it did then, nor did it possess the sheer aura of power that suffused the air around it with a suffocating pressure, but nonetheless it was the same. The very back that had once stood up for her and her townsfolk in the name of Marbas, Demon of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

She sniffled, the calm neutrality she had always been secretly mindful of breaking away to reveal a girl who hadn't moved on from the days she still cherished in the past. The simplicity of a single moment defined by a brief lull in a tumultuous time.

A child swinging a wooden sword, the mentor who watched silently while resting his back on a tree, and the third wheel that would often interrupt the tranquility of a peaceful silence.

The days gone, and the memories held dear, she could still recall them vividly.

And this was why she then promptly gave chase without hesitation.

 _You were there when I needed you the most._

Her expression was frantic, trying desperately to keep that back in view yet failing to do so since he was already too far ahead.

She had been frozen, unable to react, as those words had played in her head.

The Duty of a Lord, a Guardian Nobility of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

And now she was paying for it.

Her lips pursed together, the strain in her legs building as she forced them harder.

 _Not this time. Not again._

He had left her in the Lands of Marbas, giving her only the shortest of goodbyes and instructions, not knowing that she had seen through him since the beginning.

Her feet dug into the ground, the asphalt beneath reverberating as her heels punctured the surface in bursts of magical energy.

Goodbyes were symbols of parting. Something said only in times of departure. It was why she had understood that Lord Marbas wouldn't be coming back at that time in the Civil War. For he had said 'goodbye,' rather than 'see you soon.'

He had left her.

This was the truth that she was forced to acknowledge due to her own inability.

Well, not anymore.

Things weren't the same. She was stronger now, able to fight for herself and let her own power do the talking.

As such, she wouldn't allow herself to be left behind again.

Therefore, she kept pushing forward, zephyrs running across her face and scattering her long hair in the wind. In her anxiety, she was even neglecting to notice the effect her movements were having on the civilians on the road-side. Or to be rather frank, she probably didn't care at this point anyway.

She was a blur that most normal people could hardly see let alone distinguish. From the moment people noticed something, it would only be the cracks and holes left behind on the ground. That and the breeze that pushed with the strength of a gale force.

An Ultimate-Class Devil's movement speed wasn't to be underestimated, but could it compare to a Demon's or a God's?

To Adelina's dismay, Lord Marbas was still moving even faster and without any effects on those around him.

She gritted her teeth, unwilling to fall behind.

Her only goal was to stand by his side. To fight his foes and eliminate all who would oppose him.

If it was the duty of a Lord to protect his people, then it was the duty of a subject to lighten the Lord's burdens.

She tried even harder, going to the extent were a reddish hue was beginning to crawl across her skin in her exertion.

It was just a little bit more. Just a couple more meters to keep that distant back in view. Even if she couldn't catch up, she could still follow him by seeing exactly what path he took.

Only, if it wasn't for a pale-blue thread of light wrapping around her ankle and draining her energy.

Almost immediately, the back she had been so desperate to keep in view vanished with her reduction in speed.

 _No, NO!_

She nearly snarled, a hand seeming to move at god-speed and drawing the hilt of her blade in a practiced motion.

A face paled as a result.

"Wait, no stop!" A voice yelled, but an acute rage had erupted inside her, shifting her vision red.

It only took a single thought for her body to propel itself against a wall, her knees bending as a flash of murderous intent suffused her form. Even the edge of her blade seemed to glow in an ominous red hue as she kicked off from the wall, a flash of silver striking towards the one who dared impede her.

"Big Sis Adelina, STOP!"

It was the desperation and familiarity in that voice that halted her sword and poured a bucket of cold water over her anger.

Only a short distance away, Sona stood with her peerage; the panic on her expression yet to subside as Adelina registered what she had just been about to do and promptly withdrew her sword from Saji Genshirou's neck.

"Fuck," Saji cursed in relief, falling to the ground on his but and staring fearfully at Adelina's imposing glare.

It was true that Adelina had stopped, but she was far from appeased. In fact, the frustration she was currently feeling was almost unbearable to the point where her impression of Sona's latest addition to her peerage became an eyesore.

A shiver ran down Saji's back before his mind caught up with him and he promptly retreated to where Sona stood; his Sacred Gear containing the Prison Dragon Vritra which he had tethered to Adelina's leg, long since removed. After all, he had a distinct feeling that if he had maintained it for any longer, his future prospect would be rather grim. More so when he registered the way Sona had addressed Adelina.

"Uhm, you can have your energy back if you like?" Saji was quick to make amends.

Vritra's Sacred Gear had an ability called Absorption Line that allowed for the formation of a beam of light that could absorb power from opponents. Alternatively, the absorbed power could be transferred based on where Saji set up the next tether point.

Adelina simply nodded wordlessly, letting Saji send out a line of energy that promptly attached to her arm.

Gradually, the energy she had lost was returning to her, but it didn't make her feel any better.

"Sorry," Sona apologized, bowing her head as she drew closer. "It was my fault for asking Saji to intercept you."

Yet, Sona couldn't be fully blamed for her actions. With the speed Adelina was running at and the pandemonium she was leaving behind in her wake, it looked more like she was a part of the attacking group in Kuoh than an ally. It was only when Saji had managed to slow Adelina down enough that Sona was able to instantly recognize her as the Big Sister who often came to the Sitri household in her youth.

The very same woman she had grown to respect, and if not for her being her elder sister's Knight, would have had been her first choice for her own Knight.

Adelina remained silent, her anger abating. Sona was a soft spot for her as she had known the young Sitri Heiress since Sona had been a little toddler still gurgling while playing with her toys. To be fair, when Adelina looked back at the commotion she had left behind in her running, she couldn't blame Sona. And yet she couldn't erase her grievances entirely either. Therefore, her resentment aimed itself at Saji who felt distinctly uncomfortable.

Still, with the situation coming to a stand-still, Sona sighed in relief.

Her body though was nonetheless exhausted from her earlier maneuver of activating the magic seal left behind by her elder sister. It was supposed to have had sent her and her peerage back to house Sitri in the Underworld where she had left her trump card hidden for the past few years, but it simply sent them out of Kuoh instead.

Granted, this was the best outcome she could have had hoped for due to lacking sufficient magical energy at the time. The question now was what she was going to do.

Already, she and her peerage had escorted away any students left behind in Kuoh and had placed misdirection wards around the vicinity to keep any humans from currently entering Kuoh Academy's battlefield.

The only problem was that due to their prompt exit from Kuoh, she had no idea about the current situation transpiring within. Thus, when Sona had seen what seemed like enemy reinforcements heading towards Kuoh, she didn't hesitate to make a calculation that would allow Saji's Absorption Line to land.

Adelina shook her head to Sona's apology and instead asked the only question in her mind.

"Did you see another individual pass ahead?" She inquired, her hands subconsciously balling into fists.

However, the confusion on Sona's face was all Adelina needed to confirm an answer. Unlike her, Lord Marbas didn't leave behind any visible traces of his movements, let alone the speed he was running at was too great for even High-Class Devils to follow.

The urge to run after him again slowly crept up in Adelina's mind as the energy she had lost began to stabilize within her.

It was then that Sona furrowed her brows and glanced down towards her magic crest in thought. Thereafter, she sent a steady stream of energy into it and spoke.

"Rias? Can you hear me?" She tried to communicate.

There was static on the other end, but it didn't dissuade Sona from trying further.

"I'm currently outside of Kuoh, what's going on in there?"

Static continued to play into her ear, the sound transmitting out from her magic crest into the surroundings. Adelina was impatient to leave, but she couldn't do so just yet with Saji still transferring her energy back to her.

Sona waited a bit longer for a response, and eventually one came in a panicked voice.

"S-Sona?" Rias replied before cutting in and out. "Damn it, Gasper, Issei!" she cursed. "Koneko go help them!"

"Are you alright Rias? What's happening?" Sona shook her head. "No, more than that, where are you?"

Static was Sona's answer for a moment before only a garbled message came in reply.

'Vali Lucifer' and 'School Gym' were the only distinct words able to be made out.

Sona's expression turned grim. Even from where she stood, she could see the sheer number of enemies currently sieging Kuoh. With how inexperienced her current peerage was, it would be too dangerous to break in and aid Rias without help.

As such, her gaze landed flatly on Adelina who understood what was being implied but was consciously avoiding it.

"Big Sis Adelina," Sona insisted, causing Adelina's brow to twitch and mouth to curve into a frown.

And yet her Lord's teachings remained in her memory.

 _It's not wrong to help others._

But was it wrong of her to want to help her Lord more?

She wanted to refuse even if the request came from little Sona but she quickly came to a realization.

Her Lord had already disappeared from her gaze, making it impossible to predict exactly where he would go, but the thing was,

She knew the general location.

Inside Kuoh Academy.

She didn't exactly have a particular destination in mind when she reached Kuoh, so it probably wouldn't hurt to allow Sona to lead her on the campus grounds. She may even get lucky and find her Lord on the way.

Two birds with one stone.

"Fine," Adelina relented, but was unwilling to remain where she was any longer. With a flick of her wrist, her sword severed Vritra's Absorption Line before re-sheathing itself. "Lead the way."

Sona's expression immediately brightened. Having grown up with Adelina constantly around her during business trips from the Lands of Marbas, she was keenly aware of how overpowered Adelina was in combat. It wasn't that she was adept at advanced magic or combat, but the simplicity of her strikes coupled with the speed of her draw made it almost impossible for an opponent to react.

Before any magic could be invoked, Adelina's blade would already be resting beneath the opponent's neck. Before any attack could be executed, the attacker could already be dead.

Adelina was a nameless and low-class Devil at the time of the Underworld's Civil War. As such, her last name of Swiftblade didn't come without reason. It had been a moniker that had naturally stuck itself onto her name due to the number of enemies she had defeated on missions and in Rating Games.

Sona's admiration wasn't unfounded, and as such, with Adelina's support, she confidently led her peerage back through Kuoh Academy's gates.

The effects of the Forbidden Balor View were still apparent, but it would seem that the degree of the effect was lessened, probably due to Rias's intervention. Gasper Vladi was the owner of the Forbidden Balor View and from what little information Sona had gleamed from Rias's response, she understood that Gasper was no longer in the enemy's hands.

"T-There's so many of them," Tsubaki noted while looking up at the sky.

Sona paused briefly at Tsubaki's words and glanced in the specified direction.

She swallowed, beads of perspiration forming on her brows.

The entire sky was covered with hostile Fallen Angels and Devils.

No matter how she looked at it, there was no way she and her peerage would have had been able to make a difference with her numbers.

Of those currently present, only Adelina was left unshaken, for she had seen such numbers of enemies before at the height of the Underworld Civil War.

More than anything, the reason why she didn't fear the enemy's numbers or grew concerned was due to one fact.

Lord Marbas was in the vicinity.

And that was all that mattered.

He the protector and Hero of the Underworld.

The Last Demon.

With him near, what did she have to fear other than her own inability to stand beside him?

"They are of no concern," Adelina said absently, shocking Sona and her entire peerage with her nonchalance.

It was like she was talking about rotten cabbage heads rather than enemies with how easily she was dismissing them.

"P-President," Saji whispered to Sona as Adelina moved ahead. "How strong is she?"

Saji could still recall his life flashing before his eyes as Adelina's blade had descended too fast for him to react.

Sona didn't reply for a moment, but when she did, there was a trace of veneration in her tone.

"Adelina Swiftblade is an Ultimate-Class Devil born in the time of the Underworld's Civil War. I'm not sure if she had participated in the historic battle of Kalinse Plains, but she is already strong enough to single-handedly win my Elder Sister's Rating Games."

Saji was still confused with Sona's answer. To begin with, he wasn't too experienced in regards to Rating Games in the first place.

"So, is that strong?" He inquired.

Sona simply nodded. "More than you could imagine."

That being said, Sona pushed forward with vigour and immediately led Adelina and the others towards Kuoh Academy's gym.

Already she could hear sounds of explosions and the creaking of metal being impacted by a large force.

Suddenly, the school's gym exploded outwards, shards of wood and glass shooting towards the sky along with trails of smoke and embers.

"Vali!"

A comet of red ascended towards the sky, a spear striking towards the pale white glow of a radiant moon above.

The Twin Heavenly Dragons.

Albion, the White Dragon Emperor of Supremacy.

And Ddraig, The Red Dragon Emperor of Domination.

The Dragons feared by Angel, Fallen, and Devil alike.

Sealed away by God in the two Longinus, Divine Dividing and Boosted Gear, they met in battle once more in their respective armoured hosts.

Balance Breaker, the evolved form of a Sacred Gear.

A red armoured Knight, and a white armoured Knight collided in the air. Draconic wings of pale-blue light and emerald green clashing in the air, generating shockwaves that exuded outwards.

Issei grunted, blood dripping down from his face as he glared at Vali in anger and resentment.

It was just moments before that he and the others had already done it. They had rescued Gasper and were moments away from releasing the effects of the Forbidden Balor View before Vali intervened.

'It's still too early,' Vali had simply said before attacking.

Gasper was currently rendered unconscious, making him unable to dispel the effects of his Sacred Gear even after Issei had offered his blood.

"Why?!" Issei yelled in outrage.

Vali didn't even bother answering and instead, struck out with a fist, sending Issei back to the ground.

The air began to sizzle, the sudden heat at Vali's back forcing him to shift his attention.

"Divide."

The words were cold and monotone, the light energy of Durandal's blade dissipating by half in Vali's palm; the halved energy absorbed into Vali's wings.

Xenovia clicked her tongue, glaring at Vali from the ground. The one thing about being human was that she currently didn't have the ability to fly. Therefore, launching projectiles was the best she could currently do.

In a crater, the visor over Issei's face steadily crumbled away as the ring Azazel had granted him to allow him access to his balance breaker began to show signs of breaking. Cracks lined its surface, and pieces of it were already chipping off. He didn't have much longer to maintain his current strength.

Rias was the one most concerned at the moment. She could see from where she was that her brother was surrounded entirely by enemies, and even if she had heard stories of her brother's strength, she couldn't help but grow concerned.

Her lips pursed together, the magic in her hands already taking form as she and Akeno took aim at Vali.

Still, looking from how effective Xenovia's own attack was, Rias didn't have much confidence that her own attack would follow through.

It was then that the steady sound of footsteps echoed over the gymnasium's polished hard-wood floor.

A long sword then appeared from the smoke, one whose length nearly reached two meters.

 _She was a figure-head in the Lands of Marbas._

A woman of stunning beauty and repute.

Adelina Swiftblade.

Behind her appeared Sona and her peerage who immediately moved to Rias's side.

Vali payed no attention to them however. His gaze was focused on Adelina alone. From her he could feel a sort of formless pressure that caused him to be on edge. Even Albion within the Divine Dividing expressed its weariness. There was just something about Adelina's stance that caused a trace of uncertainty to appear in Albion's being as if he was seeing an enemy of Dragon kind.

Yet how was that possible?

The blade in Adelina's hands was no Dragon Slaying Sword, yet for one reason or another, Albion was getting the impression of a Dragon Slayer. Not from her person, but by the technique she was unconsciously emulating.

"Be careful," Rias warned as she stared at Adelina with hope. "His name is Vali Lucifer, possessor of the Sacred Gear Divine Dividing. One of the Two Heavenly Dragons."

Adelina stiffened for a moment, but quickly calmed herself down as her eyes narrowed.

 _Believe in the words once spoken._

For they were that which she had always revered as the truth.

The efforts of her work.

The fruits of her labour.

And the technique of her sword.

"A Dragon? What difference does that make?" She said aloofly, her blade drawing itself from her sheath as she took a stance and grinned derisively.

"Because in the end, Dragons are just larger swallows."

* * *

From where Shirou stood from atop one of Kuoh Academy's buildings, he could see the exact situation of the battlefield.

Sirzechs was currently surrounded and being attacked on all sides, while Azazel, Gabriel, and Michael were in a similar situation.

It was only Serafall who was different.

It wasn't that she wasn't being attacked, but the Fallen Angels and other Devils around her couldn't attack at all. There was a blizzard like shell currently surrounding her, and she was just standing there unmoving, a blankness in her gaze that he had never once seen before. It was a far cry from the jovial, if rather serious Serafall he had known in the Underworld's Civil War. Of course, there were also changes to her attire, but the magical girl outfit she was wearing wasn't something he wanted to currently think about.

Concerned as he was however, he had to look at things from a broader perspective. Out of the leaders currently fighting, it was Serafall who appeared the safest. Moreover, he could sense a peculiarity about the energy Serafall was releasing. It was almost eerily similar to the one he had released as Marbas.

" **That's because it is,** " a voice answered in his head. " **The seal of Marbas carries traces of my presence, the fact that you shared it with another means that there would be traces left behind. Only from what it appears like, she's only accessing it for the first time now.** "

"Then she'll be safe?" He wanted to verify.

" **Of that there's no doubt unless someone exceedingly strong attacks her.** "

Hearing those words, Shirou settled his emotions down and focused. The reason he had rushed to Kuoh Academy at his fastest speed without waiting for Adelina was because any time wasted could mean the death of another. If he had the ability to arrive faster, then there was no reason for him to hold back when lives were at stake.

Thus, he arrived in Kuoh just a few moments ago; sighing in relief when he realized that the Khaos Brigade was only attacking Sirzechs and the others rather than those affected by the Forbidden Balor View.

Still, his attention shifted towards Michael and Gabriel.

It was those two that started everything related to the Hero Marbas. Without them giving up a portion of their Divine Light, then he would have had never been able to return to the past, put an end to the Civil War, and re-assimilate the power God had lost.

The him of this moment, carried the strength of God who had ventured forth to the Valley of Revelations in the Underworld with the Evil within him serving as the direct anti-thesis. He was a collection of powers not meant to exist in co-existence yet doing so anyway in the medium of a human whose inner world was an armory.

A trinity of three.

The prime number of the Saints and the Holy Spirit.

A God.

A Demon.

And a mortal.

His being encompassed them all, the duty he now bore with those titles, greater than any weight that could ever be placed on his shoulders.

For what he embodied was no longer about representing any faction.

Instead, it was the Religion.

The Pantheon.

Mortal, God, and Demon, the three aspects of the bible speaking of the Heavens, the Earth, and the Underworld.

He wasn't joking when he said it was his duty to protect those in the Peace Talks. God wouldn't allow his sons and daughters to die before him, and the Hero Marbas wouldn't tolerate the Devils dying either.

His own principals and ideals similarly wouldn't allow it.

He stood up on his feet, power suffusing his form.

The time to act was at hand.

This entire attack had to end. For there was something to be seen from the greater picture. The truth in what these meaningless struggles between the Factions represented outside of Christianity and Protestantism shown to him through God's eyes.

And this was something realized first not by Shirou, but by another who he had met lingering outside of Kuoh. A son who had been led astray, but had returned, bringing with him an army of supporters.

An Angel of the Stars.

* * *

Azazel could see that there was something wrong with Michael and Gabriel from the moment the fighting began. It was why even though he had suspicions about Vali for the meeting, he had still allowed Vali to leave his side because right now, Michael and Gabriel needed his help more.

They were struggling, the spears of light that they were forming in their hands glowing only with a dull luster as compared to the brilliance of his own, and Azazel was a Fallen Angel. An Angel who had cast himself away from Heaven, his light forever dimmed.

Azazel frowned, hovering near Michael and Gabriel and releasing several dozen spears of light out at the surrounding Fallen Angels attacking them. Fortunately, the Devils in the Khaos Brigade were too preoccupied with Sirzechs and Serafall to bolster the Fallen Angels numbers.

With his current strength right now, it was just enough to defend Michael and Gabriel.

"You seem weak, Michael," Azazel stated while beating his wings and falling back next to Michael and Gabriel's side. "You too Gabriel."

"Circumstances had led us into this state," Michael smiled wryly, trying his best to prevent the enemy from isolating them.

Gabriel pouted at the side. "If I had full strength then this wouldn't be so difficult," she sulked.

Michael kept silent, but he wouldn't regret the decision he had made, and neither would Gabriel.

The two stretched out their wings before halos of pure white circled around them and expanded, repelling the Fallen Angels nearby.

Michael took in a heavy breath, his arms stretching forward and controlling the halos to spin and attack.

"Well shit," Azazel said in response to Michael's words. "If this is your weakened state, then how strong were you originally?"

Michael as the commander of the Heavens had been to important to deploy on the battlefield during the Great War. As such, he had been considered more of a strategist than a fighter.

Michael only laughed in response, but he knew his energy wouldn't hold up, and the Fallen Angels attacking were only growing more and more courageous as time passed. Generally, they wouldn't have had been a problem for Michael and Gabriel, but in their weakened state, the sheer number of them were a large headache.

Finally, Michael slipped in his control, allowing a dozen Fallen Angels to attack near them at the same time that Azazel had pressed forward for an attack.

Gabriel immediately intervened, sending waves of Holy Light that decimated the attackers, only by doing so, she and Michael had separated from Azazel who was promptly surrounded.

Azazel cursed. To be truthful, it was almost impossible for him to both attack and defend.

Left with no other choice, he pulled out a tiny spear from his magical storage.

It was golden in colour, and looked more like a stake if anything, but it was more than that. It was something known as an Artificial Sacred Gear created by Azazel's own hands.

The Downfall Dragon Spear.

Within it carried the Soul of a Dragon.

Fafnir, the Lord of Glittering Gold, and one of the Five Great Dragon Kings.

To be honest, Azazel didn't want to use it unless it was necessary as for one it was still in development, and two it was his trump card. Revealing it now would reduce its significance in the future, yet he had no choice if he wanted to save Michael and Gabriel.

Gritting his teeth, it took him a moment to come to a decision, and in that time, Michael and Gabriel had become hard pressed.

Attacks rained down on them from all directions and Gabriel was straining to maintain the shield of light she had around them. Michael himself was pale faced, yet still maintaining his attacks. However, he was no longer able to fully push the Fallen Angels back.

The Divine Light of Angels was their true source of power. The fact that they had given such a large portion away was clearly evident in the current battle.

"Is this truly the power of Heaven? Your strength is nothing compared to what Heaven once was. Nothing compared to the Heaven that Father had founded," a Fallen Angel spoke in contempt.

Neither Michael or Gabriel spoke a word, for they had no words to say to refute. The Heaven created by the Father was the Heaven Michael and Gabriel sought to preserve. How could a crumbling Kingdom ever compare to the glory it once was?

Michael frowned as the Fallen Angel continued speaking while attacking.

"You thought that the both of you were Heaven's finest, the most powerful of the remaining Seraphim? Well what can you two do now?" The Fallen Angel struck forward, a sphere of light forming in his palms. "What can you two do alone?!"

"Not alone."

A deep voice spoke, one that was solemn before an object disintegrated the Fallen that had been speaking.

At that moment, all shifted their attention towards that streak of light, even Azazel who still had the Downfall Dragon Spear in his hands.

It was a falling comet, something that was moving so fast that none could see it clearly until it cratered the ground and shook the very foundations of Kuoh Academy.

A gleaming metal shaft, a spiked ball connected at the tip.

 _The glory that once existed beyond the horizon._

 _The dreams and ambitions carried by man followed by the gentle eve of the coming dawn._

It was something that was so simple in make yet it exuded an aura that spoke of the ancient times where swords and shields represented the highest of honours and arms.

It was a Morningstar.

It lay still, buried in the ground yet releasing fluctuations of Heavenly might into the surroundings in the form of arching tendrils.

"You do not have the right to touch them," the voice continued. "Your filthy hands not fit to even wash their feet."

Michael and Gabriel stiffened, expressions shocked, Azazel even more so.

For the one who spoke was a man Azazel knew very well.

Kokabiel, The Morning Star of Heaven.

Behind his back, a legion of Fallen Angels that consisted of Kokabiel's loyal followers.

"I fight today not in the name of the Grigori,"

Kokabiel removed his robes, revealing the pale white armour he had once worn as a leader of Heaven's armies. One he had not touched from the day he had first Fallen but had now taken up again. He the vanguard of Heaven that had led the way for the armies of Angels at his back.

"And not for the sake of honour or ambition."

A hand opened, and the Morningstar cratered in the ground returned to Kokabiel's hands, a streak of light that illuminated the sky.

"I am the Angel that fell from the fifth Heaven, a sinner."

Determination swelled in Kokabiel's eyes, one born from conviction.

"Someone already beyond redemption, and yet had still been looked upon with acceptance."

Kokabiel's eyes closed, and from his figure, a light never before seen began to exude.

The wings of an Angel were representative of their power.

Twelve stronger than ten, ten stronger than eight.

And at this moment, they began appearing one by one.

Two.

Four.

Six.

"Today I fight not for the Fallen or the Devils that call this land their own,"

Kokabiel opened his eyes, a radiant light bursting forth from within as he found the answer he had been missing ever since the time of the Great War.

 _Eight._

 _Ten._

His sense of purpose, what he needed to do; shown through the compassion of the God he revered standing amongst them. Watching over his sons and daughters.

"Today I fight in the name of the Father!"

 _Twelve._

Twelve wings unfurled and released a boundless Heavenly Aura.

Pinioned feathers of black and white stretching outwards. Ten dark as the night, and two the colour of ivory.

At that moment, Azazel, Michael, and Gabriel understood what had been reached.

That which hadn't been attained by another in the past hundreds of years.

The realm of the Seraphim.

The Protectors of God's Throne.

* * *

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	33. The Sword and Mysteries: Part 6

How many years had it been since he'd last seen it?

The vision of what Heaven had once been.

The Great War was a war in which the Legions of the Underworld fought against the armies of Heaven. A war between the Legendary Red Tide, and the battalions led by the Seraphim, the Archangels.

Heaven in the time of the Great War was a United Kingdom. Angels lined the streets of the immortal landscape. Buildings of ivory and decorated laurels the very symbols of the pennant flags billowing atop the grand spires of the central citadel of the First Heaven; the image of a crown of thorns sitting upon a cross depicted on a banner hung at the apex.

The First Heaven was the front line of Heaven's defences, the first barrier the Demons of the Seventy-Two Pillars had to overcome to gain access to the greater Heavens, and it was impenetrable.

Winged sentinels patrolled the borders, explosive lances held at the ready as Metatron, the Voice of God beckoned forth the Lord's will; the divine choir of Angels stationed at the distant clouds that hovered within the citadel giving salute.

Twelve Wings.

The representation of the pinnacle of an Angel's power.

And the Seraphim that shouldered that power and stood at the front of Heavens Gate. Guardians and Protectors that had long since dwindled since the ancient times. And now, staring at the form of Kokabiel, Michael fell silent, unable to voice the questions and emotions he felt inside.

Then again, he didn't have to as a masked individual made his way to stand before him and Gabriel. The two immediately stiffened, the blood pumping through their veins accelerating along with their heartbeats.

This individual didn't stand out much in the crowd, and in fact had been largely overshadowed by the presence Kokabiel was exuding, but it didn't matter. As soon as this individual entered Michael and Gabriel's view, their breaths nearly left them.

It was a man entirely covered by a brown cloak, the mask over his face, featureless and plain like porcelain, and yet from within him swelled a presence that would daunt any Devil meticulous enough to scrutinize him.

For if they had, they would experience a fear not known since the time his great name was known by all.

Next to him, Michael felt the grip Gabriel had on him tighten before her hand began to tremble, the vibrations carrying up Michael's arm, yet neither of them spoke. They didn't have to to understand.

The two had given up a significant portion of their Divine Light to aid in their Lord's recovery, and precisely because of this, they could feel the difference.

If the Lord they had aided before only emanated a minor and familiar aura, then the one in front of them now was concealing an ocean's worth. The subtle fluctuations they could detect from him due to his proximity was unimaginable, yet at the same time, comforting.

For it was the energy that had always guided them.

The wind to their wings, and that which had raised them up since pubescents.

It was the power left behind in the Underworld and once again assimilated into one host.

The Light of God, the power of God.

"Father," Michael whispered lowly, head dipping.

Yet in the cacophony of noises caused by the subsequent attack by Kokabiel and his forces, the sound hardly travelled.

But Shirou heard it even still.

The resignation within it, and the guilt that followed for having been unable to maintain the Heaven of the past. Michael had tried too hard and had been working too hard. The system God had left behind was never meant for a single Archangel alone to be able to maintain. It was complex and meant for one able to be supplied by the unending strength of the Holy Faith.

A means by prayer.

Humans didn't pray solely to Michael, no; they prayed to their Lord and God.

It was the virtue of Faith, and the basis that God's system was set upon.

Michael in comparison had been using his own power to direct the workings of the system. It was evident enough based on the change of the colour of his wings. A pure gold compared to the ivory dove it had once been before being exposed and harmonized with the pure Faith of the masses.

How long had he suffered in silence?

Shirou himself didn't know, but God understood better than anyone, and the pain of this knowledge beckoned him forth. For what father could tolerate the suffering of their children?

He had been missing for too long. The burdens of the Father forcible handed down to become the burdens of the Son.

God would have it no longer. He was weakened before, but after assimilating his past strength, he was at a stage comparable to even the strongest of Archangels and more. There was no longer a need to conceal himself, and with a simple prompting, Shirou acceded.

The effect was unimaginable.

God's system was created by God. As such none knew it better than he.

One by one, translucent and ephemeral doves shot towards the sky with pinioned wings stretched forth. The gentle hum of a morning bell escaping their smooth beaks.

Even in the chaos caused by the clashing of Fallen against Fallen. Brother against brother, and sister against sister, the ascent of the doves froze all.

Kokabiel merely stared before growing solemn. He was an Angel of Heaven that had Fallen to lust and murderous intent. The battle was where his glory lay, and it was also the root of his sins even before he had Fallen. It was only recently that he had understood that the battle shouldn't have been between Devils and Angels, but the enemies lying in wait in the shadows. The other Pantheons.

It was a revelation that had always alluded him in his hate and animosity towards those he had always considered enemies, but his hate and animosity dissipated greatly with God's intervention.

The Doves of Heaven, the messengers and symbols of the Holy Spirit.

No Angel or Archangel could produce them.

As such, they were motifs of the past that were no longer in existence.

The figureheads of a bygone era.

And yet they appeared again amidst the fighting. They soared, weaving in and between the frozen Fallen Angels and flying towards the light that broke out from the sky.

"Raise your head," the voice that came from Shirou's mouth was no longer his own. "There's no need to repent for actions out of your own control."

It was calm, gentle, and patient, the voice Michael and Gabriel had not heard in an untold number of years.

Michael shuddered, lifting his head up and not saying anything else.

The man before him looked exactly the same as he had been before, except now the power he had been concealing was out in the open and only growing.

As if in accordance with that growing power, the translucency of the Doves in the sky hardened before they took actual form, and by then, no Fallen Angel could ignore it any longer.

The fighting stopped between the Fallen Angels, confusing the Devils of the Khaos Brigade who couldn't understand what was going on after Kokabiel's arrival. However, they didn't remain confused for long as their attention shifted back towards Sirzechs and Serafall, their main priorities.

It didn't matter to them what the Fallen Angels were doing so long as they could continue to manage the encirclement they had on Heaven and the Grigori's current leaders.

As such, no Devil paid attention to the shock that was apparent on all the Fallen Angels faces. Azazel was no different.

He stood deftly, mouth suddenly dry and Downfall Dragon Spear fading away into a magic circle. To be honest, it hadn't been that long since Azazel had made his visit to Shirou, and at that moment, he hadn't been entirely sure if the reports he had obtained through strenuous effort could be trusted or not. Yet now, the answer was obvious.

His mouth closed into a thin line, a somberness taking root from within him as he dared not approach from his current position. He had Fallen from Heaven long ago and had even once actively opposed the Father. Shameless as he generally was, he couldn't bring himself to act as if his past actions were worth nothing. But even still, rebellious child or not, there was no mistaking the elation in his eyes.

For all Fallen understood at that moment who the masked man before them was, and for many Fallen Angels, their desire to battle faltered.

Because before them was God.

To begin with, the majority of them who had joined the Khaos brigade had only done so because God was dead, and the Fallen Angels had the advantage. As such, why should they have had sought after Peace if they could have had won the war?

Yet before their eyes, it was evident that God wasn't dead. The Father wasn't dead.

Everything became clear.

The reason why Kokabiel had shifted allegiances and gained a newfound power.

The reason why Fallen fought other Fallen.

There was only one being that could sway a Fallen to repent, or hesitate to fight, and that being stood before them.

A light like none other steadily began to shine, illuminating the area in a majesty that forced the Fallen Angels to shield their eyes.

 _With his will, the world moved._

The intensity of the light increased before suddenly fading, leaving behind an unfathomable sensation.

 _With his might, the seas parted and plagues descended upon the land._

Elsewhere, Xenovia looked towards the sky, the Durandal traced by Shirou in her hands emitting a wave of heat that steadily became a torrent. Ever since she'd read the note Shirou had left behind for her, she hadn't shown much concern on her expression, but internally she was worried. How could she not be after not hearing a word from him in the past couple of days? As such, to see the light shining in the distance, her worries quickly faded away, a smile tugging on her lips. For she knew that the light and presence in the distance was him even without verification.

Yet for everyone else, it was a reminder.

The older Devils of the Khaos brigade stiffened, minds falling into disbelief before immediately shifting their attention away from Sirzechs and Serafall.

"This can't be," one of them muttered in alarm. "He was supposed to be dead."

"What are you talking about?" A younger Devil asked. "Does it even matter who comes to the aid of these leaders?"

Distinct and panicked murmurs swiftly began to fill the area, but those in the Khaos Brigade still didn't retreat.

God's expression narrowed. There had once been a time where his presence was able to force Demons and their legions to retreat let alone just Devils.

It was a sign.

In the present world, no one seemed to take Heaven in the same regard as it had once been before, and this was clearly why Michael had bowed his head upon God's return. The Heaven of the past had long since been forgotten along with the true might of the Underworld and its Seventy-Two Demons.

Only the Fallen Angels seemed to remember, for the majority of them had Fallen when God's name still held meaning in the war between powers. The Fallen glanced at each other, before coming to a single decision.

The encirclement around Michael and the others dispersed.

Kokabiel drifted towards the front, followed by Azazel after a single nod from God, giving him the greatest sense of relief.

They stood in a line behind God.

Kokabiel, Azazel, Michael, and Gabriel.

Behind them, an army of Fallen Angels.

The Devils on the opposite side still surrounding Sirzechs immediately grew weary, yet most of the younger generation still had the will to fight, glaring provokingly.

God simply stared, before sighing.

He could understand the actions that Michael had undergone to preserve Heaven in his absence. Certain measures that had once been taken as policy and law had been left forgotten; the innocent undeserving of punishment still persecuted anyway in regards to a greater picture. It was all done to conserve what was left behind, and he couldn't fault Michael for doing such a thing. Because if Michael hadn't, no one truly knew what would have had happened to Heaven.

Still, as a consequence, the image and reverie many had once had of Heaven gradually disappeared with time. God himself had never thought that there would be a day where young Devils even had the mind to oppose him in person. That was a position suited only for the strongest of Devilkind.

Heaven had conserved itself for too long.

It was no longer the time to preserve.

The world thought the Heavens to be weak. To have regressed from the stage of its past glory.

It was now that all would know that they were wrong.

"Michael," he called out softly his intentions clear.

"Yes."

Michael felt a swell in his heart, the very same feeling that emanated from within those that stood beside him. His wings shone with a pale white luster, the wings of his brothers and sisters following suit.

They were the Seraphim. The Protectors of God's Throne.

The duties they bore on their shoulders had never once been forgotten, only left buried through the centuries.

How long had it been?

The passion burning from within him ignited as the words of the Lord entered his ears.

"The time of perseverance is over, the honours of the past but a memory, yet one that will never fade."

Two arms spread open, the doves in the sky parting the clouds and revealing the banner atop a citadel, Winged-Sentinels descending in rays of light.

"Open the gates, and let the world see once more the splendor of the Kingdom in the Sky."

"Understood!" Michael stepped forward, the light exuding from his body soaring towards the clouds.

Gabriel was next, a sceptre forming in her hands as the robes she wore were discarded in favour of the gleaming armour she wore beneath. Lined with gold and flowing silk, her wings wrapped around it as she released a light that ran parallel to Michael's.

The very heavens parted, the elusive Kingdom of the Sky revealing the open gates of the First Heaven. The Angels began to descend, the effects of the Forbidden Balor View unable to affect them as the aura of the Seventh Heaven appeared and suppressed the Sacred Gear's power.

The Angels began to sing.

The Divine Choir, and the eternal hymn.

From one Heaven gradually appeared the rest. The Second, the Third, the Fourth.

They all began to appear one by one.

Even Uriel and Raphael of the Seraphim made their appearance, descending from the clouds in billowing robes of white and staring in muted shock at Michael and Gabriel.

For no Angel alone could summon the entirety of Heaven with a single call. That power and privilege belonged only to one. It was then that the two noticed the one standing before Michael and Gabriel their expressions growing reverent before they shouted in excitement.

"Rally, rally to the Lord!" The two shouted amidst the confusion of the Angels who were suddenly summoned from Heaven.

God hadn't remained idle in this time. He alone had created the system Heaven had set its basis upon, and at that moment, he fully drew upon it.

The symbol of the cross manifested in all its glory, the phantom image it had once been before at the time of the Holy Sword Excalibur incident, long since forgotten. Instead, there was a depth to it that spoke of its significance that the older Devils staring in horror knew all to well.

The Battle Standard of the One God.

As the Angels began to assimilate together with the Fallen, none of the Fallen felt any awkwardness. In fact, what they felt was a sense of belonging as God's aura wrapped around them and boosted their strength of light. Their wings shone ever brighter, the dark feathers suffused with light.

Azazel opened and closed his palms, mimicking the actions of many of the Fallen present as he swallowed. It had been more than a millennium since he had wielded this sort of light. That which was granted due to God's presence.

The only thought he had at the present moment was that it was a shame that Shemhazai and Baraqiel weren't present to experience the feeling.

On the other hand, as the Heavens fully descended, the Devils on the Khaos Brigade's side were rendered silent. Even those that had once been full of battle intent had turned meek.

They couldn't help it.

The sight before them was one that was simply too difficult to overcome with mere bravado and bravery. Remaining where they were any longer would only mean death. More so when a burst of the Power of Destruction instantly reduced a distracted Devil into nothing.

It wasn't just the Heaven's they were facing, but the newest Leaders of the Underworld, two of the new Four Great Satans.

With that thought in mind, many Devils in the Khaos Brigade began to retreat, their bat-like wings steadily propelling them away.

Yet one Devil in the Khaos Brigade was unsatisfied and began to laugh madly.

He was Alden Botis, a survivor from the Old Satan Faction during the time of the Underworld's Civil War. He had been a young leader at the time and was in charge of a small convoy delivering new hands to labour in the ore veins of an old mountain.

Reaching a hand towards his waist, he immediately withdrew from his pocket a crystal the size of his palm and the colour of amber. From within the crystal exuded an aura of divinity that was difficult not to notice by any of the other devils nearby.

"What is that?" One of them questioned.

Alden ignored it, staring intensely at the crystal.

The him of the Civil War of the Underworld was a youth filled with ambition and hopes. Obnoxious and filled with vigour. Someone who dreamed of a future where he could reign supreme and raise the prestige of his noble family, one of the Seventy-Two Pillars.

Yet now looking at his future self and what he had become, all he could do was laugh derisively. He had become the mere attendant of a woman with an inferiority complex and had been forced to undergo unscrupulous task after task, all in the hopes of fulfilling his revenge.

His eyed closed as the memory of a young women floated into his mind. The one Devil he wouldn't have minded dying for yet was taken away from him through some unforeseen means.

Launa, his fellow peer in the Underworld's Civil War.

In a heartbeat, he crushed the crystal in his hands, producing a suction force that ate away at his body as fuel.

"W-What are you doing?!" Another Devil asked in panic, the pull produced from the crushed crystal dragging her in.

"Something I should have had done since the beginning," Alden said calmly.

From the void created after the crystal's destruction, an ancient Divinity began to leak before steadily growing stronger, the implications of which were not lost on any Devil near Alden.

"Y-You're crazy!" A Devil cursed, backing away from Alden's immediate location. "This was a battle between our Factions, not a third party! This wasn't part of the plan!"

Alden grunted. "Of course not," he said coldly as the entirety of his body vanished. "This was insurance."

He didn't regret dying. After all, he knew deep down inside that he had already died at the end of the Underworld's Civil War. He had only been prolonging the inevitable.

As soon as Alden died, the pull from the crushed crystal ceased, an old man dressed in middle-eastern robes appearing from the void. From him emitted a fieriness that was reminiscent of a burning inferno followed by a divinity that encompassed the entirety of Kuoh that clashed against the aura the Heavens were releasing.

This man was named Utu, Sumerian God of the Sun. A God of light and wisdom of ancient Sumer.

His gaze spanned across the entirety of Kuoh before remaining steady on Shirou, aged eyes glaring.

It was something that was unprecedented. A feeling that had manifested itself all the way into ancient Sumer due to resonance. Earlier in the Holy Sword Excalibur incident, a Divine Construct had been formed, one that was entirely Sumerian based. A weapon of Sumerian mythology and named after a Sumerian Deity.

Ig-Alima, the Mountain Felling Sword.

It was a Holy Relic of ancient Sumer's power that had long since been lost. For it to be in the hands of another Pantheon or Religion, it was intolerable. More so when other Sumerian Gods felt oddly peculiar about the barrier surrounding the city of Marbas in the Devil's Underworld. From it, not only did it seem to give off an aura similar to Ig-Alima, but it also gave off an aura similar to Sul-Sagana, another Holy Relic of ancient Sumer.

Of course, this had always been speculation on the Sumerian Gods part, but it was all but confirmed when the aura of Ig-Alima itself had manifested in Kuoh. Thus, it was evident that the religion of Christianity was in possession of Sumerian based Divine Constructs.

Utu and the other Gods of Sumer were furious, yet Utu was never one to show his anger.

Instead, he would punish those that offended him.

Utu lifted a hand, and all the Devils from the Khaos Brigade were rendered still, unable to move before being blown away to crater into the ground. A majority of them passed out from the sheer impact while others were left to wallow in pain from their injuries, broken bones and minced flesh the least of their concerns as the fiery heat of the sun soon suffused the area. Even if these Devils weren't worth much in the grand scheme of things, they were still part of the Christian Religion. Killing them would only weaken the Religion's strength, and besides Utu didn't arrive for a polite conversation, but retribution.

He had been the one in charge of surveying Kuoh after Ig-Alima's presence was confirmed, and it was his insight that had seen the friction between the Devils. As such, he acted and manipulated a weaker-minded Devil to directly allow him entry through the natural defenses of the Christian Religion uninhibited.

The current situation was a result of that; the destruction of a divine vessel from Sumer enough to allow him to bypass any other trivialities set up by the Christian God's system and arrive firsthand.

Utu was a God of the Sun, one attributed with light. The heat he was generating with his divinity was scorching the earth black. Tar bubbled on the roads, putrid smelling and rancid, the substance forming depressions in the ground with the melting and collapse of lampposts and streetlights.

The Devils laid sprawled on the ground after Utu's attack were having it worse. Their skin began to flay, legions of red crawling up their bodies as wisps of smoke began to rise from their clothes. Some who were too injured to even move, couldn't even scream as they burned.

Sirzechs brows furrowed almost immediately, and even Serafall who had been acting distant since the start of the battle looked over. Enemies they were, but those of the Old Satan Faction were still Devils. The sight before them was going too far. Instead of simply killing them, this was a prolonged suffering.

Sirzechs would endure this no longer, yet someone else was even faster to action than he.

"Enough," a stern voice intervened, blocking out the heat focused on the Devils with a lighter aura that healed them.

It was the same property stored within the Sacred Gear Twilight Healing that didn't differentiate between race. It would heal all, all the same. With this intervention, the pained cries ceased.

Utu furrowed his brows. Angered as he was, he was still rather befuddled with the current situation. From what he knew, the God of the Christian Religion was dead and as such, even if Christianity was one of the top religions in the world, it could still be considered weak.

Yet somehow his divinity was being interfered with?

Utu shifted his attention towards the masked-man who had clearly spoken.

"And what Angel are you?" Utu spoke bitingly, not putting Shirou's presence in his sights.

After all, no matter how strong an Angel was, they weren't anything special when compared to the might of Gods, deities of worship.

Expectedly, Michael bristled at Utu's dismissal. He wasn't the only one, almost every single Angel who understood who Shirou represented reacted strongly.

Gabriel's expression darkened as the smile on her face faded away into a natural calm, the power of light in the sceptre in her hands intensifying.

Uriel and Raphael had already spread forth their wings in indignation.

As for Azazel and the Fallen, their murderous expressions were evident enough, more so when the Morningstar in Kokabiel's hand erupted in white flames.

Yet moments before Michael and the others would step forward, a hand stopped them.

Shirou stared ahead. Although God had been maintaining a large portion of control over him, he wasn't unaware of the situation around him. The state of the Devils left him furious. To begin with, he understood their reasons for fighting in the first place due to his presence in the dimension created by the Khaos Brigade. The Devils in the Khaos Brigade were from the Old Satan Faction, a faction that had already proven itself to be deferential to a legitimate ruling power. The only reason they were fighting was because they questioned Serafall and the others legitimacy to rule the Underworld.

As such, wouldn't hostilities cease as soon as a legitimate leader appeared?

He had done so in the past. Seen a united Underworld.

He couldn't tolerate this, and God already understood his intentions.

"What Angel am I, you ask?" God spoke, stepping forward.

His steps were accompanied by bursts of stellar light, the pressure exuding from him increasing exponentially as the might of divinity and faith enshrouded him.

Utu suddenly balked. He was a deity. As such, in another Religion like Christianity which was said to have had already lost their God, his strength should have had been at the apex. Of course, he might have some difficulties with the new leaders, but he didn't believe it would be to the point that it would be life-threatening.

Looking at the man approaching him, Utu subconsciously began to step back before realizing what he was doing and freezing.

Utterly shameful. How could he retreat in the face of some mere Angel?

A cold sweat suddenly burst from within him at that moment.

Angel? Was the man approaching truly just an Angel?

Utu stared blankly as the Heavens in the sky seemed to revolve around his opponent, the divinity surrounding Utu paling in comparison to that which was steadily being released.

God in the bible was worshipped as the One God. The power of faith flowing from the masses alone near insurmountable for any other God to compare. For Christianity was a Religion that spanned across the entirety of the world. In comparison, who in the present age could recount the names of any of the old Sumerian Gods?

Utu faltered in decisiveness, already convinced that who he was facing wasn't just an Angel. In fact, from the sheer divinity that quickly dwarfed Utu's own, only one man came to mind.

"Y-You," Utu stuttered out. "You are the Christian God?!"

Shirou didn't answer, there was no need to when his actions alone could prove his identity. For God was indeed with him.

From Utu's hands sprouted miniature suns which he then hurled forward, the two suns expanding until they encompassed the entirety of Kuoh. The heat they exuded was many times more potent than the earlier heat derived from Utu's aura. It was to the point where even Sirzechs stiffened for a moment in concern for Rias and the others who he knew were in Kuoh's premises.

And yet, with a single raise of a hand, the suns vanished.

"When God said 'let there be light,' then there was light." The words spoken were soft but deafening to Utu's ears. "So, if God says 'let there be dark,' then there can only be dark."

"I-Impossible," Utu finally began stumbling back. The power and divinity he had placed into conjuring those two suns wasn't small, and in fact had mainly been a test.

There was a reason why many Gods from other Pantheons and Religions had actively avoided conflict with the Christian Religion even during its Great War between Heaven and the Underworld. It was simply because even if Heaven and the Underworld were at War, there was no opportunity to be had. For that almighty figure of the Christian Faith had always been present.

The One God.

Unlike other Pantheons and Religions, there was only one God in Christianity, meaning that all the power of faith that a God's strength was supplemented with was supplied only to one. Take for example Utu, a Sumerian God. Even if he was a God, the amount of devote to him was split between the other Gods of Sumer. Therefore, his power base and distribution would always be smaller than what accounted for the entirety of his Pantheon.

More than that, there was the unspoken rule that the Christian God wasn't one to be provoked, and it was with much joy that the smaller Pantheons and Religions celebrated when news of God's death reached their ears through intelligence gathering. Only now, that intelligence appeared to be false.

A tremble travelled through Utu's body, the flickering of his expression rather subtle, but still something that was noticed. At this point, Utu understood that if he was truly facing the One God of Christianity, he had no chance of winning. Thus, all he could do was hope that whatever had caused the Christian God to disappear for so long was still affecting him either by an injury or hidden detriment.

"I am a God of Sumer, a God of the Sun," Utu bellowed before releasing the full weight of his divinity. "Do you really think defeating me will be so easy?"

The eyes hidden beneath a mask simply glanced up, not a flicker of emotion passing through them as a divine might crushed Utu against the ground. Utu paled instantly.

The rumours of the Christian God's power in the Ancient times wasn't just an exaggeration, in fact, it was simply an understatement.

"Seventy-Two were my equal and you are but one not even comparable to the weakest of them," the voice entering Utu's ears was like a blow heavier than any Divine ability, but he still persisted.

Utu's hands found purchase on the ground before forcible raising himself to his feet the exertion causing the wrinkles on his old face to crease. The expression of dismissal he had used from the beginning had long since given way to one of the deepest urgencies for there was one thing he understood. He had to get news out to his fellow Gods that the Christian God wasn't dead.

To begin with, if Utu had known that the Christian God was alive, then even with the evidence that Ig-Alima had appeared in Kuoh, he wouldn't have had dared attack. It was one thing for a religion without a God to possess a Divine Construct, and it was another thing entirely if the Religion had a God. Especially a foremost religion predominant in the world.

Speaking of regrets, Utu had many after his Religion fell out with mankind, but it didn't mean that he was willing to perish at the hands of another.

Utu git his teeth and glared.

"No matter how strong you are it won't matter!" He said, wheezing from the pressure. "Your light will not reach me!"

Utu was a God of the Sun, which alternatively gave him a domain as a God of Light. God himself from Christianity was said to possess the strongest Light, one of creation and power. However, the main aspect about Gods of Light, was that it was exceedingly difficult to kill them with a power stemming from Light.

It was the same concept of trying to smother a fire with an even greater fire. It was almost impractical, and God knew this, the pause in his actions apparent.

Utu finally felt some semblance of calm. In the end, as long as he didn't succumb to the pressure upon him, there were numerous opportunities to escape. After all, it generally took a God to restrain another God, could the Christian God watch over him forever?

Indeed, it was highly unlikely, and with this thought in mind, Utu forced himself to endure while his expression slowly grew complacent.

One could win the battle, but so long as they didn't win the war, nothing would change.

Of everyone present on scene, everyone understood this point. How could they not after waring between each other for centuries? Hundreds of lives had been lost both in Heaven and the Underworld, and yet still the war persisted. Individual battles and victories meant nothing in the long run.

The situation seemed to have come to a stand still, but that was when all felt it, Utu even more so as a shiver ran down his back, his eyes widening in confusion.

Dark tar-like tendrils began crawling up his body, the feeling like millions of ants biting upon his skin. A plague whittling away at his own divinity.

Worse, none but him could see it.

"You are correct that my light can not re **a** ch **y** o **u** ," The voice was changing, shifting; the calm and tranquil, replaced by gruff and infernal. " **B** u **t who sa** i **d it woul** d **be li** g **ht that would reach you** **?** "

A domain of curses, one that instantly replaced the light in the area with a suffocating malevolence. Twisted dark swords suffused with vile energy began appearing one by one, plunging into the ground and caging Utu within who remained unmoving.

Utu just couldn't understand what was going on let alone the others watching. The change had been too sudden. Something that no one present could have had predicted much less Michael and the others who looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Only the biggest change occurred on the Devil's side as from the plunged swords sprung forth a magic crest not seen since the Underworld's Civil War.

 _A Nobility of the Seventy-Two Pillars. The Demon with the head of a Lion._

Many of the Old Satan Faction members who had regained consciousness after cratering into the ground trembled before staring in disbelief.

This energy.

This presence.

Adelina froze in her fight with Vali, Vali himself following suit as his attention immediately altered. As a Devil who had never participated in the Underworld's Civil War, the heaviness and malevolence of the energy blanketing Kuoh was a first. The blood within him felt like it was boiling, a resonance caused by his heritage as a Devil.

This effect was even more apparent on Sona and Rias, the two left out of breath.

Yet perhaps the one most affected by the sudden emergence of this energy was Serafall.

She had remained in seclusion after she had defeated Katarea Leviathan, unable to bring herself out of her spiraling state of self-loathing. And yet now, a glimmer appeared in her gaze before her attention shifted towards one direction, her mouth opening and closing. From her position, she could only see the back view of the man currently fighting for the sake of the Peace Talks.

But it was a back with a familiarity that caused her mind to blank even as she subconsciously began to step forward, her lips quivering.

 _The Fifth Demon of the Ars Goetia._

 _The knower of all truths and the keeper of the Twin Keys._

The power suffusing the area intensified, wisps of black manifesting and creating the image of misshapen monsters of shadow that danced and flickered ephemerally.

Utu finally began to struggle desperately under the restriction of the power weighing on him, veins popping from his arms and straining against the taint crawling over him.

Even then, it didn't matter.

For it was already too late.

Shirou stared down at Utu while persevering through the pain caused by using all the World's Evil. Already it was hard for him to think straight with the murderous nature of the curses he was bearing, but he understood one thing. He had to deal with Utu before those he held dear would be put in jeopardy.

He leaned forward, a hand filled with an even more potent curse reaching towards Utu and distorting the reality around the vicinity.

It was at that point that cracks began to appear one by one on the featureless mask he had traced; it no longer able to maintain itself after enduring such powerful energies since the beginning of the battle.

Then again, he didn't need it any longer.

Pieces of the mask chipped away to reveal a face covered in black tribal markings, piercing bronze coloured orbs glaring without emotion.

Serafall's breathing hitched, the tears welling in her eyes trailing down her cheeks.

It was the face she knew all too well.

The face of the fool that she had only been able to see in her nightmares as he faded away in her arms. She hesitated no longer and shot forward, desperate to make sure that what she was seeing wasn't just an illusion caused by her own desperation.

Meanwhile, a darkened hand encompassed Utu's head, the curses spilling forth like a torrent that caused Utu's body to go limp before Shirou let go.

What remained of Utu was a haggard appearance, one that was a far cry from the brilliance he had exuded when he had first arrived.

"Y-You," Utu said weakly, the life and divinity in his eyes gradually fading away. "You are not the Christian God."

Shirou simply nodded. In the brief moment that God had paused in his actions, God had simply allowed Shirou to take over. Light would not defeat light, but darkness could.

"No, I am not," Shirou answered Utu softly, traces of tainted energy exuding off of him. "I am Marbas, Demon of the Underworld."

Utu's mouth closed at the response, before Utu smiled derisively.

"Even the Demons thought to have had died still remain," Utu muttered as the life faded from his eyes. "What a blunder."

In a gentle breeze, Utu's body turned into dust, carrying in the silent wind that blew throughout Kuoh.

Shirou heaved a sigh. In the end, everything was over.

His gaze landed towards the members of the Old Satan Faction and the majority of them were already bowing their heads in reverence including the younger Devils, some even prostrating. Even though they had heard from their seniors about the might of the Underworld's Hero, experiencing the aura of all the World's Evil first hand was another matter entirely.

As for Heaven and the Fallen, they were even more unlikely to attack with his presence in the area. For even if he was currently exuding a Demonic aura, the Holy aura he had displayed previously was unmistakable.

It was then that a body crashed into him, the fierceness in the arms that clung around him expressing the anxiety his assailant was experiencing.

Before he could even react, it was then that he felt it. The wetness soaking into the garments he wore as the distinct sound of sobbing entered his ears.

Unprepared for the sudden attack, his body toppled over, sprawling over the ground as a mess of black hair masked his vision. And yet, he didn't dare struggle, for he quickly understood who was clinging onto him based on the softened expression on Sirzechs face.

It was a continuation of a time that had frozen in the past.

An ice that was steadily beginning to melt.

Silence descended in the area, accompanied only by the weeping of a woman who refused to let go of that which was in front of her.

That which had always faded away in her arms like a sick joke in her dreams.

Yet this time was different.

The tenderness, the concern.

They were all there just as she remembered, evident in the gaze she saw looking upon her.

She wanted to speak, her mouth opening, yet no sound came out even as the tears continued to spill. Her grasp on him tightened in her anxiety. She wanted to express the emotions she hadn't been able to before, yet no matter what she did, no words came out.

But it didn't matter. What she wanted to convey had been received long ago in the tears she had shed upon a desolate battlefield.

Arms wrapped around her, tucking her head at the crook of a shoulder; the warmth she felt was something that she had never thought she would experience again since that time in the Underworld.

His mouth opened, speaking the words she had wanted to hear the most and making her sob harder as a result.

"I'm back, Serafall."

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	34. The Sword and Mysteries: Arc End

Serafall's sobbing was the only sound that he could hear as she pressed her face into the crook of his shoulder, the grip she had around him only growing tighter with the admission of his words.

A confirmation that what was before her wasn't just an illusion, but a reality not born from hope or desperation, but the truth, and that only made it more important for her not to let go.

He himself could sense her intentions; even feel the depth of her emotions to an extent, and it was precisely because of this that he didn't know what to do at the moment. In fact, his mind had blanked and something akin to relief welled up from within him.

Even if he had been gone, she was still okay. No matter if he knew that she would be alive in the future, the despair and lack of life in her eyes when he had 'died' had always caused a part of him to worry.

Just as he had changed the past with his actions, he feared that he had changed it too much. What was he supposed to do if he had come back to the present and only Three Great Satan's existed?

Unknowingly, it was a scenerio that had been dangerously close to occurring. If not for Grayfia's intervention at the end of the Underworld's Civil War neither Sirzechs or Ajuka would have had the courage to speak to a woman they knew that they had wronged.

Still, now wasn't the time for his mind to be clouded.

The two of them were still sprawled over the ground, Serafall holding him in her embrace and he running a hand down over Serafall's back in hopes of soothing her.

They were the current center of attention, and there was no one present on the scene that wasn't staring at them aside from Rias and the rest whose line of sight was obstructed by the gymnasium's walls.

Michael's expression remained somewhat conflicted with traces of confusion in his soft features, and this was an emotion felt by the majority of both the Angels and Fallen after seeing Shirou's current state. Not the fact that Serafall for all intents and purposes had broken down upon first sighting him, but the fact that such a maleficent and vile energy was exuding from their Lord and God.

Of course, not all Angels and Fallen were feeling conflicted for the same reasons. Gabriel for example was subconsciously frowning, her cherry-coloured lips shifting into a thin line the longer she stared at Serafall clinging onto Shirou.

She had never once felt such emotions like hate, jealousy, or envy, but she felt that she could finally understand why it had caused numerous Angels to Fall. The sensation was actually quite frustrating. Her hands balled into fists, her expression growing neutral as the tips of her wings were shifting to a dull almost blackish grey without her knowing.

Azazel was the first to notice the changes occurring to Gabriel, but he quickly averted his gaze feeling somewhat hopeful that she would Fall and join his ranks. At least then he wouldn't feel as embarrassed when staring at the Lord's eyes.

Gabriel's mood continued to sour, but it was just when her body decided to step forward that Michael intervened. A hand was placed on her shoulder, Michael's touch jolting her back to her senses and causing Azazel's brows to twitch.

Thereafter, Gabriel pursed her lips and decided to turn her gaze away, her arms crossing as a petulant expression made its way onto her face almost as if she was sulking.

Sirzechs on the other hand wore a wry smile. When was the last time he had seen Serafall behave so childishly without putting on an act to display in front of her younger sister? As fellow colleagues, he had seen her appearance more than once when she thought herself to be alone, her jubilant exterior altering to an insipid, bitter, and hollow expression. It was almost like there was no purpose in her eyes, nor ambition to complete. All that was left to her was the duty of keeping the Underworld and her younger sister safe.

For all intents and purposes, the Serafall that he had known and had called friend before the Underworld Civil War had died by the end of it. No longer did she smile for herself. No longer did she display her natural child-like tendencies, and instead she buried that personality away, traces of it only surfacing when in Sona's presence. Even then it never lasted. The fact that he himself was guilty of causing such a thing had always been like the sharpest knife stabbing into him. In that way, the awkwardness that still lingered between them was understandable.

It had been too long since he had last seen this part of Serafall, and he understood that with time it could become even more frequent, permanent even.

And that was why he had to do his part as her self-proclaimed friend, for he knew that Serafall may no longer consider him to be so.

The chasm that had formed in their relationship at the end of the civil war was impossible to bridge, but he would do what he could anyway.

As such, he had been keeping a careful eye on anyone that may choose to disturb the current scene, particularly on Heaven and the Fallen's side for he knew that any Devil on his side that had heard about the Tragedy of the Civil War would find it impossible to interrupt.

This was why he noticed the change in Gabriel's expression like Azazel, making his own turn grim as magical energy pooled into his hands. Fortunately, Michael intervened, but not before casting a deep glance at Sirzechs's way.

Michael had no doubts that had Gabriel tried to interfere, Sirzechs would have had been the first to stop her.

Meanwhile, neither Shirou or Serafall seemed too understand the tension that they were causing between Heaven and the Underworld. Instead, they were too focused on their current situation to care about anything else at the moment.

Serafall's sobs had reduced to a dull snivel, but in exchange, she hugged him harder. Her fingers gripping onto his garments like a vice.

"You're really back?" She muttered with her face pressed to his chest.

He didn't answer, the arms he had around her more than enough to let her understand after he gave her a gentle squeeze.

She bit her lips, the tension leaving her body before she tentatively composed herself, and it was then the arms wrapped around her began to gradually loosen; the action jolting Serafall enough to stare anxiously up at him.

"K-Kuro?" She stuttered questioningly.

"There's still something I have to do," he said slowly, moving his hands to the ground and using them as leverage to hoist himself and Serafall back onto their feet.

Serafall's body followed limply, her lips pursing as she gradually let go of her embrace.

It was true that she now understood that Kuro really was back, but an unreasonable part of her mind was still fearful that should he leave her sights, he would really disappear. Her current complexion was rather pale, cheeks puffed from sobbing and the redness even more apparent on her skin.

It was an appearance that didn't suit her, he thought absently, but fortunately, he knew the words he had to say.

"I won't leave again," he said, simultaneously tracing another mask which he placed over his face. In the process, the malefic aura he was releasing faded away until there was nothing left, only the feel of a regular Human. "I'll be back shortly."

Saying that, he gave Serafall a nod before turning to the others and gesturing to them his intentions. He had left Irina to deal with the members of the Hero Faction for too long already, he had a responsibility to make sure that they were safe.

He nodded once more to everyone present before taking off, leaving them behind knowing that the danger had passed.

Serafall watched his back silently the entire time, and the others were no exception, all gazes watching the fading image of the figure in the distance.

She swallowed, suddenly realizing the dryness of her mouth as she stood uncertainly in place. To be honest, she was far from completely composed with numerous questions flittering through her mind, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking about them.

Kuro, he was Kuro, she was certain of it.

Yet at the same time, she had also seen him display such Heavenly might that it was blinding. The doves in the area themselves still soared, some lingering and some perched by the Heavens which were called down from below. It was undeniable proof that what she had seen wasn't just a blip in her mind, but a fact.

The Kuro she had seen wasn't just the Kuro she knew of the past. Instead he was something more.

From a Holy Being to a Demon. From a Demon, to a Human. She had enough experience to understand the multitude and fluctuations in aura present within Kuro's body, and it didn't make sense.

The very principle of her doubts was evident even in the Evil Piece System that Ajuka had developed long ago. It could theoretically alter an individual from a specific race to harbour properties of a Devil, turning them into Devils themselves through reincarnation. However, the limitations involved with those pieces spoke for themselves. A Reincarnated Devil could not revert to their previous forms, and the pieces themselves were ineffective against higher leveled beings such as Gods and Buddhas, and Dragon Gods.

As such, what Kuro had just done by revealing his ability to alternate between races was too shocking for her to describe.

The Kuro she had known before was the great Demon that had changed her life in the Civil War. The very man she discovered had been able to steal away her heart just by his actions, selflessness, and considerations alone.

Yet Kuro's current state was too shrouded in mystery. Too many questions that were left without answers for her to wrap her mind around.

It was only after Kuro's figure disappeared in the distance that everyone began to move again.

Vali who had had been fighting Adelina above Kuoh's gymnasium clenched his palms while engraving the strength Shirou had just displayed into his mind; categorizing him as an opponent he would eventually face and surpass. Still, the current situation wasn't one that was tipping towards his favour, more so when he understood that the Underworld and Heaven's reinforcements would soon be on their way.

With Shirou's departure, the intensity of Adelina's fighting spirit increased exponentially as the sword in her hand literally blurred, the edge striking out ruthlessly.

Another chink appeared in Vali's armour, and it caused him to grunt as he swerved to the left, using his wings to glide away to a safe distance. His expression was cold as he stared at Adelina, unable to understand how a mere steel blade was able to bypass his Balance Breaker's defence. If not for him dividing the sharpness of the blade mere moments before her every attack, he was certain that he might have had lost an arm by now.

"You are Adelina Swiftblade?" Vali spoke for the first time since the beginning of the fight, his eyes glancing towards the approaching Sirzechs, Azazel, and the rest.

He was running out of time.

"You've earned my attention and the right to see my true strength," he said solemnly.

The radiance from the wings behind his back began to shine with an azure luster, traces of glimmering dust pooling behind him as he smirked.

"I the one to awaken, am the White Dragon Emperor who will take the law down to the darkness,"

His tone was flat, yet filled with a power that exuded out into the area. The world itself appeared as if it was on the brink of dividing; trees and building distorting and shrinking, creating misaligned asymmetric structures that quickly crumbled away.

"I walk the ro-"

"Vali, now isn't the time!" a voice interrupted, causing Vali's concentration to falter.

Up in the clouds appearing from a magic circle, was a youth wearing traditional Chinese Armour, red and leather paddings on his chest and arms. His appearance was rather clean, with short cut black hair and a thin yellow head-piece adorned on his forehead. His clear brown eyes were staring calmly at Vali, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation.

"Bikou," Vali called out before drawing in his battle intent.

Bikou's arrival was like tossing cold water over Vali's agitation, forcing him to think before he acted. Even if he had confidence in ending the fight with Adelina faster, there was no guarantee that he would finish with enough time to escape the forces of Heaven and the Underworld.

As such, he knew what he had to do.

"Let's go," he said.

"You think it would be that easy to leave," Adelina's voice cut in, her body shifting into a drawn posture. "If you insist on leaving, then I insist that you leave your head behind."

Bikou grinned after hearing Adelina's words. "You sure know how to find them, don't you Vali," he joked.

"Shut up," was all Vali said, his expression serious.

Adelina wasn't an opponent he could just simply run away from. Her strikes were too fast. One opening was all it would take before he would suffer an injury.

"Need a little help?" Bikou asked, the golden staff leaning against his shoulder shifting into his hands.

"No," was Vali's curt reply, and yet Bikou only smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, I can't call it back now."

Saying that, Bikou moved to Vali's side just as a golden cloud rocketed towards Adelina.

She stiffened for a moment, but quickly lashed out at the cloud about to collide into her. The sound of her sword leaving its was sheath like thunder to Sona and the others ears. And yet, a startled gasp escaped Adelina's mouth as the cloud harbouring strong magical energy simply passed through her strike and herself, leaving her off balance as she expected some form of resistance.

Bikou was quick to use the opportunity and grabbed Vali before both of them jumped into a magic seal.

"I forgot to tell you," Bikou's voice echoed out even as his body disappeared with Vali. "The cloud is pretty much harmless, also, watch out for a black cat. She seems to have found entertainment with one of your friends and is slacking off too much."

Adelina didn't reply, merely put away her sword as she knew that Bikou and Vali had already escaped. As such, there was no longer a need to remain, but she still took note of Bikou's words, no matter how confusing they sounded to her ears.

Returning to the ground, Adelina watched as Sona and the others approached her to ask if she was alright. The only one who ended up standing by herself was Xenovia off in the corner. Then again, of everyone present in the room, she was the only human.

Xenovia didn't really mind staying by herself at the moment. Her association with Devils wasn't exactly strong or one of her closer relationships, yet after spending time with them, she realized that they weren't so different from humans. It was why she had decided to help because despite her indifferent demeanor, she was actually far kinder than most.

She placed her Durandals back around her, the weight of the swords resting by her waist as her hands remained idle by the hilts. Her attention was currently focused on Michael and the others whom she saw approaching after exiting the Gymnasium whose roof was destroyed when Issei and Vali first fought in the sky. Only the walls had remained to obscure her view due to her inability to fly, and now that she had stepped out with the rest, she could see just how damaging the fight was.

A large part of Kuoh Academy was in ruins, the cement and steel scorched black by a high intensity energy, and the rest of the school grounds leveled with craters and fissures that spanned for hundreds of meters.

She furrowed her brows, recalling how it had looked like mere hours ago before shaking her head.

Gasper Vladi, a central figure in the whole incident was currently held unconscious in Rias Gremory's hands, the Devil both exhausted and somewhat injured from when Vali had attacked.

Still, Gasper's condition wasn't exactly important so long as he himself was alright, what mattered was the odd peculiarity Xenovia noticed amongst the members of the Three Factions. No matter if it was Michael, Azazel, or Sirzechs, they all appeared to be deep in thought.

The Fallen Angels and Angels were far closer than normal, with many standing shoulder-to-shoulder without any signs of uncomfortability. Was it a result of the Heaven's descending? Even she couldn't stop marveling at its splendor, yet it wouldn't last.

Uriel and Raphael standing amidst the Angels nodded wordlessly to Michael and Gabriel before working to return the Heavens to the sky. The clouds themselves seemed to stretch forth like hands that quickly began covering the Holy Kingdom until all that was left was a cloudy atmosphere; breaks in the clouds revealing the tranquil light of the moon as the hour drew past mid-night.

Xenovia felt it was a pity, but she revered Heaven and the Angels so she said nothing. Instead, bowing her head low as Michael and the others approached before them.

Initially they had come after seeing Adelina facing off against Vali Lucifer, but with the man himself gone, the only reason she could think of as to why they decided to approach them rather than continue the Peace Talks was due to Serafall and Sirzechs's concerns for their siblings.

Expectedly, that was the first thing the two leaders of the Underworld did. Sirzechs, regardless of Rias's protests took his little sister into his arms and began inspecting her for injuries. Serafall was a tad different. When she stared at Sona, rather than Sona adopting her general exasperation towards her, Sona ended up turning her gaze away awkwardly.

The Sitri sisters most recent relationship could have had been described as strained after Sona's constant refusals to divulge information, and this was something all members of Sona's peerage understood. Therefore, like Sona, none in her peerage were able to meet Serafall's gaze.

An awkwardness began to spread as a result, but unexpectedly, a pair of arms pulled Sona into their embrace, a hand moving to rest over Sona's head.

"I'm sorry," was all Serafall said, pressing Sona's face into her bosom.

It was if all the hardships Sona had faced in the past few days had vanished, replaced by a cheery warmth that she hadn't felt in weeks. It was true that she found her elder sister annoying, but it was only when Serafall stopped associating with her entirely for the past few days that she realized just how much she cherished her. Now that Serafall appeared to be feeling better, she decided that she might as well tone down her admonishments for her sister's conducts at least for a short while.

"You really do cling too much," Sona muttered in relief.

"Mhm," Sona nodded. "Only you, no; maybe one other person too."

Sona pushed out of Serafall's grip and stared quizzically at her, but Serafall didn't explain.

Due to the obstruction of the Gymnasiums walls, Sona, Xenovia, and the others hadn't been able to witness the full extent of the confrontation in the Peace Talks. Instead, they were simply subject to the massive auras that bathed the entirety of Kuoh in overbearing energies.

Xenovia was confident that the sheer Holy Aura that had bathed the place in Holy Light must have had been Shirou, but for some reason she couldn't understand where the malefic aura had come from. In fact, she had believed that it was a secret weapon that the enemy had prepared and was readying herself for a life and death confrontation. Only it suddenly disappeared as fast as it came.

Moreover, who was this Marbas that she could hear the Devils on the side talking about?

No, she shook her head. She didn't care. After Sirzechs and Serafall were done checking up on Rias and Sona, it was then that Xenovia found it prudent to speak.

She was having trouble keeping her agitation in check, but she made sure that her voice came out in a tranquil manner.

"Where's Shirou?" She asked, her gaze looking around.

The source of her agitation was the fact that she understood that Shirou was just in the area, and she hadn't exactly seen him or Irina in several days.

Once her words entered Michael and the others ears, she was met with silence.

Edgewise, the first person to speak was Sirzechs.

The man cleared his throat before speaking.

"You mean Marbas?" Sirzech's said naturally.

Xenovia glared, looking at Sirzechs as if he was stupid without any regard for their difference in status. That was how she was generally when dealing with Devils as she was raised on stories of their evil acts. It wasn't a habit that would be going away any time soon, therefore, her response came out as petulant.

"No, I mean Shirou," she said flatly.

Michael stepped in, seeing that the time was right to reveal what was on his mind.

"Indeed, the man you saw before is Shirou. A man affiliated with the Church and Heaven, not Marbas, a Demon of the Underworld."

Michael's tone was if he was stating a fact, leaving no room for arguments. Michael was kind for an Angel, kinder than most, but that didn't mean that he didn't understand Sirzechs intentions when he had called Shirou Marbas. To Heaven, Shirou was of vital importance and not someone they wished to lose by any means. Yet, wasn't it the same for the Underworld?

"Hold on Sirzechs, what is going on here?" Serafall demanded, confused as to why Sirzechs would call Shirou Marbas.

"That's because the Marbas you saw, was the Shirou your younger sister was acquainted with. The very same man you proposed her marriage to," Sirzechs finally admitted.

Serafall stiffened, her expression growing unnaturally still as she processed the words Sirzechs had spoken.

"Y-You knew and you didn't tell me?" She demanded.

Sirzechs swallowed before his mind raced for an escape option. "If you attack me now, you'll only prove I was right to keep it from you. The Peace Talks were too important to jeopardize."

Serafall trembled before staring back at Sona who instantly turned her gaze away. Even the members of Sona's and Rias's peerage glanced away for they all had had contact with Shirou at one point.

Serafall balled her hands into fists as her fury spiked, but she quickly released her anger as she realized that there was something more important at hand.

She stared at Michael, unblinking.

"Kuro is a Demon of the Underworld. He's not just Shirou, a member of the Church's forces."

Before Michale could respond, it was Gabriel who beat him to it. Her confrontational attitude was a first for Heaven's number one beauty and not something Serafall had ever seen.

"Indeed, he is not just a member of the Church's forces but our Lord of the Kingdom in the Sky. He doesn't belong in the Underworld," Gabriel said crossing her arms.

"Y-You, say that again, I dare you!?" Serafall bristled. Gabriel's words were a direct attack on the events that had occurred between her and Kuro in the Underworld's Civil War. To say that she was unaffected by it was like taking a joke too far. She was fuming.

Gabriel's expression didn't shift in the slightest, the tension rising as a result, but one person didn't care.

Respectful as she was to Heaven and its Angels, she felt as if she was left out in a loop and wanted to understand what was going on.

"Shirou is a Human," Xenovia said with certainty. "Why is this something that has to be debated?" She asked, her intervention causing the area to go silent.

Indeed, Shirou was Human, but at the same time, he was also Marbas, and Lord of the Kingdom in the Sky.

A Human. A Demon. And a God.

A unity of three that was unfathomable.

Only, a single voice, clear and methodical, seemed to have the answer.

"I, I think I might know of a reason," Sona said softly when all gaze shifted towards her.

* * *

He arrived near the warehouse of the Holy Sword Excalibur incident within only a couple minutes from his departure from Kuoh, using the energies he still had lingering within him to bolster his speed.

The same mask he had worn was over his face once more, but that was because he needed it to get those he had saved from the hero Faction to trust him. After all, none of them had actually seen his real face. As such, he created another porcelain-like mask despite the substantial difficulty in doing so for his reserves.

Fortunately, the lingering power of Faith within him wasn't small. It was just that he ended up using a majority of it do to his lack of proficiency when tracing anything other than swords and weapons.

Approaching the entrance of the warehouse, he gave a subtle knock on the steel frame that sent echoing sounds into the building.

Nothing came in response, but he was certain that Irina had led everyone here.

Frowning, he opened the door, and entered inside, pausing when a sword was propped facing his throat.

"Shirou?" Irina whispered, releasing a breath of relief before drawing back her sword.

Having left while Shirou was confronting Adelina, Irina didn't take any chances and had readied herself by the warehouse's entrance to act as a guard. Most of the people they had saved from the Hero Faction were still rather weak, and the ones that weren't were nowhere near Adelina's match. Therefore, Irina had taken it upon herself to buy some time should the worse case scenario occur.

However, she really couldn't hide her kind personality.

He had seen the hesitation flash across her eyes as her sword moved towards his throat, and that hesitation alone proved to him that even if he was an actual enemy her, virtue would prevent her from outright killing.

"You've worked hard," he complimented, Irina only sighing in relief before she motioned for the others hiding in the shadows to emerge.

One by one, those in the Dimension he had saved from the Hero Faction appeared, visibly relieved at his presence.

"Thank you," they bowed towards him.

Those that had been saved were those that didn't wish to fight unless they had to. To begin with, before they were taken by the Hero Faction a majority of them lived relatively carefree lives with set patterns of work, school, and home.

It was only natural that they would be opposed to fighting on behalf of those who had abducted them.

Still,

"You don't need to thank me," he said earnestly. "All of you are people that have the power to do something similar to what I have done. You were all taken from your homes and lives, and forced into a situation that none of you could get out of. You've seen the evil that can be committed by others, and as such should understand what I say next."

Heroes were individuals that didn't stand above the rest, nor possess qualities that made them different from average. Instead, it was their drive and beliefs that differed from all else.

To fight on the side of justice.

To uphold the morals of one's character and oppose evil without a doubt in one's consciousness.

"You don't need a reason to help others."

His voice was steady, a means to convey the depths of his thoughts.

"You do it not for thanks, nor for recognition, because that's what a Hero is. Nothing that requires the inheritance of blood or to be a descendant of a famous Hero. You are what you make of yourself. Therefore, there's no need to thank me simply because I'm following the path of my own ideals. The path of my own will."

"It's laughable, yes, but that's who I am. An Ally of Justice, and a man whose dream is to become a Hero."

The area remained silent, but there was something that had changed in the eyes of those present, even Irina was affected as she swallowed. Even if the dream was laughable, something that seemed unattainable, it was the value in striving forward and making that difference that counted.

Irina didn't possess a Holy Sword as strong as Durandal, or something as versatile as her previous Excalibur fragment, but she had always trained in secret to make up for it.

Shirou's dream wasn't laughable, it was commendable.

And like many listening, Irina too decided that it wouldn't be bad to become a Hero.

A strange sort of atmosphere began to exude from the area, but Shirou coughed and brought matters back at hand.

"It's not safe for you all to stay here," he said abruptly. "I'm not certain on the specifics, but I believe it would too suspicious for Heaven or the Underworld to discover such a large gathering of Sacred Gear users in the same area."

"Then what do you suppose we should do?" A man asked, expression somewhat hurried. "There's nowhere currently for a few of us to go. To be frank myself and a few others came from St. Maria's Orphanage in Italy. The large majority of others in here also come from orphanages around the world as when we first showed signs of our Sacred Gears, our parents disowned us in fear, making it easier for those in the hero faction to find us. They only needed to look through the records left behind about abnormal happenings filed by our former parents."

Many in the crowd nodded after the man's words, leaving Shirou stuck for a solution as he was actually planning on informing them to head home back to their families to tide things over.

His brows furrowed, but in the end, he came up with a rather shameless idea.

"J-Just leave this matter to me," he ended up stuttering.

* * *

Like he had promised, he returned to Kuoh after settling matters with those rescued from the Hero Faction. Irina had insisted that she follow him, but he already felt bad enough for involving her in the entire matter and even getting her injured in his absence. It was true that he had healed her, but it was better to be careful so he refused her kind intentions, missing the flicker that appeared in her eyes.

As soon as he arrived at Kuoh, he was astonished to discover that all the damages that had plagued the entire place were all but gone; the fissures and schisms nowhere to be found, and the scorch marks and melted steel returned to their former structures. It didn't appear as if an era changing battle had even happened.

If not for the Angels, Fallen, and Devils still in the area, he might have had been questioning if he'd returned to the right place.

He swiftly took off his mask and discarded the cloak he had worn. They were no longer needed and besides, he was certain that if Xenovia saw him wearing a cloak she would call him a hypocrite for insisting that she stop wearing hers in public. That wasn't exactly something that he wanted to debate at the moment with all the responsibilities pressing down on his shoulders.

Upon entering Kuoh, it was with a startling realization that he noticed that everyone, Angel, Fallen, and Devil were staring at him oddly.

They weren't malicious gazes, nor were they of the disturbing sort. Instead, they looked as if they were staring at an anomaly.

Feeling slightly perturbed, he wanted to ask what was wrong, yet the moment he called out, the Fallen he had addressed bowed in the deepest show of reverence, not daring to speak.

His lip twitched.

The situation was one where he was internally screaming at himself not to go out of his way to find out. He was never one to feel comfortable at being the center of attention or praise, and something was telling him he wouldn't like the answer he would get.

When he had left, it was with startling clarity that Sona revealed her initial conjecture she had that involved the Hero Marbas and the events that had transpired in the Underworld. Known as an intellectual genius despite her young age, no one present to listen to her conjecture could belittle her. More so when it sounded so fool-proof, leaving no holes to be picked at.

Marbas, the Demon of the Underworld was first.

In Sona's conjecture, Marbas was an actual Demon that existed first in the Underworld, and after dying at the hands of God's Light, assimilated with it to form a neutral existence through reincarnation; a magical system implemented by Christianity, several other pantheons, and even in the design of the Evil Pieces. God himself had a similar verse in the bible in relation to Jesus Christ.

In any case, the neutral existence was the Human Shirou who possessed properties of both God and the deceased Hero of the Underworld, Marbas.

Of course, this would all sound too ludicrous to Shirou's ears when he would eventually hear of it, but to many it was quite plausible; more so than believing that Shirou had somehow just been dragged back into the past where he impulsively changed everything.

As such, this common view of the mystery surrounding Shirou permeated throughout Kuoh in his absence.

In the end, it was decided that Shirou could be considered himself, God, and Marbas, as inconceivable as that sounded for many.

As for where Shirou should rightfully belong within the Factions, that was another matter entirely that could potentially lead to violence. Therefore, Sirzechs, Michael, and Azazel, the forefront leaders of the Three Factions agreed to discuss the issue at another time. They did all come for a Peace Talk after all.

With no one currently willing to divulge any information to him, Shirou could only awkwardly make his way to where he assumed Michael and the others to be. Only, he ran into Xenovia first.

She stared at him, dark-yellow orbs so focused that it appeared as if they could see right through him. Although to Xenovia it had only been a couple days since she had last seen him, to him it had been several months at the least. She looked the same, a valiant woman who still wasn't very good with interacting with others but was steadily growing out of it.

There was an intensity and resolution to her at the moment that was hard not to notice, so he stopped in his tracks to stare back at her in befuddlement. Something about his expression in that moment caused Xenovia's naturally cold expression to break into a small smile before she moved directly in front of him and spoke.

"No matter what they say," she said strongly. "To me, you will always be Shirou, the one I will entrust myself to, and the Holyman who appeared in the Church Creek."

"Xenovia?" He questioned as she was acting too strangely.

She only shook her head, and didn't bother explaining. For a moment, it seemed as if a fire had lit in her eyes, the dyed green fringe on the right side of her brow floating up with the aura she released.

 _The Fire's of determination, and the Spring Time of Youth._

He forced himself to blink, and to his relief, Xenovia then looked like her normal self.

"I will give her this chance because Sona asked me for a favour, but I won't hold myself back the next time," she muttered before saying out loud. "I'll be waiting back at the house," she said before leaving, not allowing him to get a single word in.

Then again, he felt used to it.

To be honest, all the girls he was associated with had headstrong personalities. All he could do was follow their whims and make sure that they were safe.

Shaking his head exasperatedly, he could only make his way towards where he could feel Michael and the others currently residing. The current leaders of the Three Factions were not supressing their natural aura at all, making it difficult for him not to notice where they were.

As such, he soon arrived at a refurbished room where Sirzechs, Azazel, Michael, Gabriel, and Serafall sat around a rectangular table made of heavy oak. Kokabiel who should have had participated in the meeting chose not to because it wasn't part of his nature.

Shirou was the center of attention as soon as he walked in, and the sounds of discussion all but ceased, even the hushed bickering he had heard in the hall between Serafall and Gabriel came to a stop.

"You're here," Azazel said pleasantly.

He gave a nod before falling into a deathly silence when he noticed that both Serafall and Gabriel were offering him a seat beside them.

A part of him was already crying internally. They _had_ to be joking. He had just come from smoothing matters out in the Peace Talks and dealing with the rescued people from the Hero Faction. He didn't want to deal with anything else, but was now being forced to?

The smile on Gabriel's face was breathtaking, her natural grace and beauty not something one could easily resist, but Serafall was the same. More so from the expectation in her eyes.

He stared between them once, and then twice, before finding a way out.

"Thanks for the seat," he said as a cold sweat dripped down his brow; he placing himself in the open chair between Michael and Sirzechs.

"N-No problems," Sirzechs stuttered, feeling wronged as neither he nor Michael had openly insisted that he sit next to them.

And yet the glare he was receiving from Serafall caused him to feel a bitter sort of feeling. As for Gabriel, she simply pouted at Michael who was inwardly far more gleeful for this arrangement, as his veneration for God was one of the greatest in Heaven.

"Now then," said Michael energetically. "I believe we've all come to an agreement on this Peace Talk?"

Both Sirzechs and Azazel nodded.

"The war is over, and we will all work towards the betterment of our Religion," Azazel said. "Now then, if you would Gabriel."

Gabriel smiled softly, her lips parting to reveal her enchanting voice, naturally sultry yet innocent.

Serafall cursed her on the side.

"After a full consensus between all of the leaders present here, we've decided to appoint you as head of this new alliance between the Factions for you are both our Lord of the Holy Kingdom, and the Great Demon of the Underworld. Your authority is unquestionable so please do not refuse as it would cause too many problems."

He promptly closed his mouth as Gabriel finished her last sentence, his refusal left stuck in his throat.

A silence resounded before he inevitably agreed as he could understand just what trouble Gabriel was speaking of. Should anyone else other than him take up the position, a similar situation as the Underworld would occur where certain members of the Factions couldn't acknowledge another's leadership and rebelled.

The Factions had shed enough blood, and he would be damned if he would turn out to be a cause of it. Still, now that the matters of peace were dealt with, he had to bring up something that all leaders needed to know.

"There's a danger coming," he said solemnly and abruptly, causing the celebratory mood of the room to fade.

"And that danger would be?" Sirzechs asked.

"The Trihexa."

Baamm!

Michael stood up abruptly, the seriousness in his eyes causing a shudder to run down Sirzechs's back for he had never seen Michael reveal such an expression.

Sirzechs and Serafall were still young for Devils and only recently in the past decade did they come into power. The most that they had heard about the Trihexa was that it was the Beast recorded in the Apocalypse. Its strength was said to be unimaginable, and only Michael and the other long-lived Seraphim could accurately describe it to be on par with the Great Red.

"Is it really that strong?" Serafall couldn't help but ask. From her house's records she couldn't get an accurate feel for how formidable the Trihexa had been.

"More than you could imagine," Michael said, releasing a sigh before sitting himself back down. "To be honest, it was the reason why we believed our Lord and God to have died at the hands of the Underworld's then Four Great Satans. After all, God was weakened from sealing the Trihexa before he was attacked by the great Satans."

Shirou searched through the memories God had shared with him, and indeed he realized just how weak God had gotten in his effort to seal the Beast of Apocalypse at the Ends of the World. It was truly unfortunate that in the end, the remnants from the Holy Grail in Fuyuki were able to enter through the seals and store itself with the Trihexa. The taint itself would work as a poison that would eventually corrode the thousands of forbidden Seals God had used which tapped into his very divinity. As a result, the Trihexa would be freed.

It was the worst-case scenario, and it was unavoidable.

Preparations were therefore necessary.

After Michael's admission, not one person spoke. For Sirzechs and Serafall, they had just felt first-hand just how powerful the One God of Christianity was mere hours ago. To think that such an existence would have to use a majority of his power just to seal the Trihexa through forbidden seals, just how strong of an enemy were they facing?

"This isn't an enemy that just one Religion and Pantheon can face alone. We need the strength of an alliance of Pantheons and Religions," Shirou proposed the plan God had devised, stunning everyone into deep thought.

In the end, another meeting was decided to be held with all representatives of the Factions before they took decisive actions. Michael and Gabriel never doubted their Lord and were fully supportive, however similar to Sirzechs, Azazel, and Serafall, they had to confide with their colleagues for such an important decision.

One by one, the leaders in the room soon left, the first being Azazel who needed to inform the Grigori of the latest news to begin preparations, and then Gabriel who left reluctantly due to her own duties.

Only Michael, Sirzechs, and Serafall were left, and it was then that Sirzechs gestured subtly to Michael.

A flash of unwillingness arose within Michael's expression, but he was kind, and understood what Sirzechs was getting at.

Michael sighed before leaving, making sure that Sirzechs would remember this favour he was granting as he wasn't exactly comfortable leaving his Lord in the company of just Devils.

Sirzechs could only accept being in Michael's debt as he knew that it was nothing compared to the pain he had inflicted upon his friend. As such, when he was certain that Michael was gone, he too discreetly left, leaving only Serafall and Shirou behind.

The two both sat stiffly.

Currently, Serafall no longer wore the Magical Girl Uniform she been wearing previously as she felt mortified by it when she had composed herself enough to realize that Kuro had seen her in it. Before, she could wear it without any shame because she understood that there truly was no one that would be able to replace Kuro in her heart, and yet here he was now.

Serafall was fidgeting, unsure of what to say or do as the words Sona had said resounded in her mind.

This was really her Kuro. The very same man she had met in the Underworld's Civil War so what was she hesitating over?

Kuro's was hers first. She had met him first, therefore, what did she have to hesitate about? Still, her lips were like lead, unable to move, and making her appear meek.

Shirou, staring from the side could sense Serafall's unease and current difficulty, but he too didn't know what to say. She had cried for him, cared about him, and even clung onto his memory that he had left behind. To say he wasn't touched would be a lie, but to say that he was experienced in these types of things was also a lie. Thus, he felt like he was at an impasse.

It was only after another moment of staring at her did he finally relax and think things through.

He never should have had over complicated things in the the first place. His mouth opened naturally, the things he should have had said flowing out easily as he understood exactly what he wanted based on the type of person he was.

Looking at Serafall, there was only a single thought that had eventually found itself at the center of his mind.

He wanted to make her happy.

The woman who would care for him to such an extent.

"That promise we made back then," he said thoughtfully, bronze orbs staring straight at her own as he scratched at the back of his head. A familiar gesture that caused Serafall to sink into reminiscence, her head bowing low.

He didn't notice her movements, his concentration and sincerity focused in the words that he wanted to say.

"Is it too late to take you up on it?" He asked, taking a breath.

It was as if lightning had struck Serafall at that moment, her body freezing before a smile that could rival the most beautiful of women spread across her face mixed with her joy.

 _A grand banquet, one that she believed had long since been forgotten._

The recollection of that promise caused Serafall's lips to quiver, but it was because of it that she found the courage to express herself.

"No," she said, glancing up, tears pooling in her eyes which she slowly wiped away with her palms.

It was a feeling of happiness which she couldn't describe.

"No, it's not."

* * *

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 **And sorry for the lateness of the update. It was intended for yesterday, but something happened on Saturday that took away the time I needed for the Sunday update so I postponed it until tonight. Sorry for any inconveniences!**


	35. The Sword and the Aesir: Prologue

Walking silently out of Kuoh Academy and back toward the familiar home he had been residing within in the past month or so, he felt oddly at peace.

None of the damages Kuoh Academy had experienced during the incident of the Peace Talks remained, and most of the Devils, Fallen, and Angels had already returned to their respective dominions. In which case, he was finally able to put his mind to rest in the short term with nothing too pressing that deserved his utmost attention other than the silent woman following from behind him.

With long flowing emerald coloured hair, and steel-grey coloured eyes, she was a familiar face that he didn't have much trouble recalling. The only differences in her current appearance with the one from his memories, was the lack of a braid running down one side of her person. Instead, her current hair-style was freer, like a cascading waterfall that fell evenly from behind her head, a lustrous sheen to it reminiscent of a rare gem.

It was little Adelina, the young Devil he had saved at the beginning of his interference in the Underworld's Civil War.

She didn't speak, the length of her strides matching his to the point that the sound of her high-heeled steps clicking behind him echoed the thudding of his own feet.

It was a harmonious sort of moment born from reminiscence. The little devil who had once followed him back then, shifting into a stunning beauty who despite her earned status, still chose to follow after him. He who appeared only to be human in the eyes of the ignorant.

Still, the part of him that shied away from attention had never changed.

It was one thing for Adelina to follow at his back so resolutely as a little devil in the Lands of Marbas, but it was another thing entirely now that she was grown and stunningly beautiful.

"…"

"I-Is that a model?"

"Who's the lucky bastard she's following?"

The amount of attention he was receiving from pedestrians along the road due to the sheer fervency of Adelina's gaze and actions towards him was daunting. Too many people were staring and ogling, and it was making him uncomfortable.

Besides, he had to physically glance back at Adelina to make sure she wouldn't strike out against the Highschool student who had just called him a bastard in her presence.

Her eyes had narrowed dangerously, the hand supporting the longsword at her waist having moved to its hilt in an instant. If not for his quick reflexes born from dealing with extremely powerful individuals, he feared that he wouldn't have had made it in time to stop her from causing a tragedy.

What he couldn't have had possibly understood though was just how important Adelina regarded him. He was far more than just a simple role model or teacher, he had been her support at the time she had needed him most, and she would never forget this fact.

More than that, if such an insult towards the Hero of the Civil War had ever occurred in the Lands of Marbas, there would be _hell_ to pay, and nobody to move in the Highschool student's defence.

Adelina clicked her tongue, but it was clear that she was far from happy with his interference, her body slightly inclining so she could whisper into his ear.

"Lord Marbas," she insisted. "They dare insult you, and you expect me to just-"

He shook his head, prompting Adelina to stop, her lips pursing as a frown worked its way to her face.

Subconsciously, she could at least understand where her Lord was coming from, for she too had once been weak. Even if her Lord had been insulted, the magnanimity and tolerance he was displaying was reminiscent of the soft-spoken individual she knew him as, forcing her to remain silent.

He watched as she straightened her back, the pensiveness that had flashed across her face shifting into a murderous glare as it turned towards the passersby who she could not act upon; the intensity of it intimidating any who had any thoughts of remaining nearby.

A sigh escaped his lips, but at least the situation had reverted back to a calm silence.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't last either.

Sirzechs, one of the Four Great Satans of the Underworld was standing directly in front of his current lodgings, Sirzechs's awkward gaze staring directly at Adelina in exasperation.

His lip twitched at the thought of more trouble.

"I thought you left already," he said dryly bringing up the day's earlier events.

Sirzechs scratched at his temple, not really knowing what to say in response to his words as it was true that Sirzechs had left him and Serafall together mere hours ago.

Speaking of Serafall, the moment itself in that little room in Kuoh was ruined when Serafall realized that she wasn't exactly alone with him. Her little sister Sona had slipped in at some point after noticing Sirzechs's suspicious manner of leaving the room and investigated. This prompted Serafall's face to flush in embarrassment before she hastily left, forgetting to set an actual date for his visit to the Sitri household.

Nonetheless, it wasn't too important to mull over at the moment. Instead, he was more curious as to what business Sirzechs had.

"Well, I actually did leave," Sirzechs finally said dejectedly, shoulders drooping. "But how was I supposed to know that one of the most respected and responsible individuals in the Underworld currently managing one its major capitals would suddenly up and leave?"

Sirzechs eyes were narrowed at this point, the judging expression on his face leveled directly on Adelina who remained expressionless.

To be fair, when Sirzechs had first seen her arrive in Kuoh, Sirzechs had been stuck with the notion that Adelina had left someone in the City of Marbas to oversee it. In the end, it had only been a false assumption and by the time Sirzechs had returned to the Underworld it was to find that the task had been delegated unknowingly to him.

The stack of papers and city propositions that needed his approval that he found stacked 'high' on his desk almost made him want to cry. More so with how merciless Grayfia was acting towards him by expecting him to take up the extra responsibility on top of his own.

Needless to say, he didn't want the extra burden and had immediately gone to search for Adelina, knowing that she was the cause of his plight and misfortune.

Serafall was partly to blame for the situation too as she was the one who was actually in charge of the City of Marbas's regulations, but Sirzechs knew he would get nowhere by attempting to persuade her. As such, everything was riding on the proxy set up by Serafall.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Adelina Swiftblade?" Sirzechs said hoarsely.

His Social life was banking on this moment.

In response, Adelina merely cleared her throat, an earnest expression on her face as she spoke the words that pushed Sirzechs down an abyss.

"I resign."

Was all she said.

No. No, this couldn't be happening.

Sirzechs paled, his eyes pitifully turning towards Shirou who glanced away since this was an issue of the Underworld.

"H-How can you be so shameless?" Sirzechs stuttered out.

Adelina merely raised a brow.

At this point, Sirzechs had almost convinced himself that this was a punishment set by his wife for his recent tendency to skimp out on tedious work. Its just, why did it have to be so vicious? NO, absolutely not. He couldn't stand for this.

Sirzechs glanced once at Shirou before determination rose from within him. If his wife and friends could be sly as devils, then he could too.

"You would disrespect the efforts of your Lord?" Sirzechs said calmly, straightening his posture and evening out his clothes.

For once in the conversation Adelina stiffened, before she composed herself and crossed her arms.

"What slander are you speaking of?" She said.

Sirzechs grunted.

"You would abandon the city your Lord had left behind through his own efforts without hesitation," Sirzechs pressed in a hard tone. "Tell me, how can that be anything but disrespect?"

"I, I…" Adelina trailed off, not knowing what to say in response, but it was then that Shirou felt it.

He frowned, a subtle push shifting his gaze towards Adelina as if in displeasure, causing her to lose her composure. It was only a moment later that Shirou understood just where the sudden attack on his person had come from, the dull light of a magic circle emitting discreetly from Sirzechs's left palm.

"M-My apologies my Lord," Adelina bowed much to Shirou's displeasure, but Sirzechs was quick to act.

He stepped in between the two and prevented Adelina from seeing Shirou's expression before putting a hand on her shoulder.

"If you understand that you did wrong, then its best that you hurry and amend it."

The way Sirzechs was speaking was reminiscent of wizened counsellor, but it didn't stop Adelina from trying to face her Lord to offer a solemn apology. Expectedly, Sirzechs panicked as he knew the expression Shirou must have had been making at him. Should Adelina see it, his entire ploy was done for.

Sweat dripping down form his brow, he decided that some sacrifices had to be made for the betterment of the future.

"I'm sure your Lord can understand the depth of your remorse so you don't need to go out of your way to physically express it," Sirzechs said hastily. "In fact, if you go now, I'm certain you may meet the man you've wanted to challenge for the longest time. Didn't you always want to prove that the swordsmanship you learned from your Lord was superior to all others?"

 _Sorry Okita,_ Sirzechs made a quick mental apology.

"That's true but-"

"No buts, go now."

A magic circle suddenly appeared unknowingly behind Adelina, and due to Sirzechs's close proximity, the man immediately pushed her in, her form vanishing in less than a second.

Sirzechs wiped the sweat off from his brow, intent on immersing himself in the relief that flooded through him only for a voice to stifle it.

"You are an evil man," Shirou said flatly.

He had watched everything from the beginning, not saying a word as a part of him was actually troubled with what he would have had done if Adelina insisted on always following him. In this regard, didn't that mean he owed Sirzechs a favour? He shook his head, not wanting to think about it.

"Sacrifices must be made for the greater good," Sirzechs said without guilt. "Adelina is an excellent manger of the City of Marbas. Losing her could dampen the livelihood of many Devils."

"You mean yours?"

His response was simply too piercing, like a knife stabbing through butter.

Sirzechs shut his mouth, not willing to say anything more on the matter, yet the man didn't seem keen on leaving yet.

"Is there anything you need?" He ended up asking.

Sirzechs nodded.

"Unexpected as my arrival was, it at least makes things more convenient as I can inform you that the meeting to discuss the proposed countermeasure against the Trihexa will be held in three days time." Sirzechs shrugged. "As where the meeting will be, will it be alright with you if we use your current accommodations? Kuoh academy would be too inappropriate as it's a student facility, and its hard to discover an agreeable location. In which case, yours is perfect."

Shirou didn't know what to say. From the way Sirzechs had spoken it sounded as if it was already decided upon. Therefore, he simply nodded and watched as Sirzechs left, happier than he had come.

* * *

The sound of the door opening as he turned the knob of his temporary residence wasn't very loud, but it was enough to alert the people within that he had arrived.

Footsteps resounded down the wooden hall soon after, and it wasn't long before he saw Xenovia and Irina approaching him. The two seemed to have had talked with each other previously, perhaps more on Irina's end about what had occurred recently to explain her absence.

Whatever it was, the two seemed closer to each other than they had been before, but oddly enough they appeared too focused for one reason or another.

"She didn't say anything weird, did she?" Xenovia was the first to ask, her eyes glancing downwards in apprehension of his answer.

She?

He thought about it for a moment, and understood that there was probably only one-person Xenovia could possibly be referring to based on the contexts of her words.

"Uhm, I don't think so," he said recalling the exact conversation he had with Serafall, short as it may have had had been.

Following his admission, it was if a weight had lifted itself from both Xenovia and Irina's shoulders as they nodded to each other, the smile born from relief on Xenovia's face rather dazzling.

"That's good then," Xenovia said, arms crossing together and a fond sentiment exuding from her.

She was currently still in her Kuoh Academy Girls Uniform, having been too distracted earlier to change out of it much like Irina who was still in her white-cloaked slim-fit battle attire. Now though, she was probably contemplating on changing it with how dirty it had gotten during the fight in Kuoh. Patches of dirt clung to it, and other places were so torn that her bare-skin was exposed, making it possible to see the underside of her left breast whose top had barely managed to hold together.

Polite and self-conscious as he was, he made sure to shift his attention away, a redness colouring his cheeks that honestly made Xenovia feel a sense of satisfaction for a small victory.

Irina was feeling the opposite and was discreetly glaring at her own cloak as if her eyes could burn holes through it.

Still though, the moment eventually passed when Irina decided enough was enough and changed the subject.

"Actually, there's something Xenovia and I have yet to inform you of, so if you would," Irina gestured politely with a hand. "I think its better to discuss this in the living room."

Saying that, Irina pulled Xenovia along with her, and led everyone to the small but cozy room of the house.

He sat on one of the recliners situated near a back wall adjacent to a hearth, Xenovia and Irina sitting across from him on a sofa.

Irina pursed her lips, but as the one who brought up the matter, she had to be the one to deliver it.

"As you should probably know already, Xenovia and I were actually sent here at the beginning of the Holy Sword incident on a mission issued by Mother Griselda," Irina began tentatively. "Since that moment, we were tasked with reporting back with messages at least twice every five days, and recently, we were tasked with our next _very_ important assignment. But, but the thing is, it wasn't issued by just Mother Griselda alone."

Irina was playing with her fingers, her body fidgeting. For some reason or another, a faint heat was also emanating from Irina as a flush came to her face, her mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. She looked to Xenovia for help.

Xenovia nodded her head. "Indeed. This next mission wasn't issued by just my mother alone, but by Michael and the Seraphim. All of them stating that it's of the utmost importance and something related to the Heavens themselves."

Hearing the gravity of both Irina and Xenovia's words, he couldn't help but grow serious. With how important the two were making it out to be, it had to be something dangerous and a part of him was already beginning to worry for them. The fact that they were informing him in the first place was telling enough that they may not have the confidence to see it through. As such, he decided that he would do what he could.

"If I can help, don't hesitate to ask," he said decisively.

Xenovia and Irina glanced at each other, before finally nodding towards him.

"If its you Shirou, then I don't mind," Irina said rather meekly.

?

Confusion welled up from within him.

Something about Irina's sentence felt wrong, but he couldn't think about it for too long before Xenovia leisurely stood up and formally bowed towards him.

"By the orders of Heaven itself, Xenovia Quarta hereby states her vow to stay by your side until death," she said, a blush working its way onto her expressionless face before she worked up her courage and walked towards him. "When should we make the baby?"

He stiffened, his mind working itself into a fluster.

"H-Hold on here, what exactly is going on?" He asked frantically, stopping Xenovia from doing anything further as she was in the midst of pulling out a condom before thinking better of it and saying 'going bare' would be more effective.

He refused outright. More so when Xenovia had taken it upon herself to help educate Irina on the matter despite being inexperienced herself, claiming that what she had read in a book would be enough.

Somewhat put out with his refusal, Xenovia and Irina finally explained to him what exactly their mission entailed after a through staring.

As it would turn out, Michael was more devious than he appeared, or perhaps it might have been someone else of high standing in Heaven. The point however was that other than Xenovia and Irina acting as personal guards of sorts, they were also tasked with earning his affection in hopes of conceiving heavenly heirs for Michael and the others to dote upon. Thereby preparing for any worst case-scenarios by possessing a legitimate successor.

His mouth twitched, but after having understood the matter, there was nothing he could blame Irina and Xenovia for. Instead, what he worried about was the danger they may find themselves in should they stay near him.

With the two's current levels of power, they were still too weak to face the type of adversaries he would have to eventually face.

However, seeing the determination in the two's eyes, it was clear that he wouldn't be able to dissuade them.

He stood up, drawing the attention of the two before him.

A wooden sword appeared in his hands, followed by two others before he passed them onto them.

If he couldn't dissuade them, then what he knew that he had to do was to at least train them. With his Tracing magic, it wouldn't be too difficult too understand their flaws within a couple moments of sighting their weapons.

Moreover, he had another ace-in the hole he could use.

He wasn't truly a master swordsman,

but imitation was also a form of flattery.

* * *

Her arms hurt, more than they had in a long time, and for one reason or another, she was subconsciously starting to develop a fear of wooden swords. Granted, it wasn't entirely baseless.

She glared at the tender bruises covering her arms and legs in an attempt to stave off the dull pain, but it was almost impossible with how numerous the bruises were. Certainly, they weren't heavy blows, yet accumulation was just as bad and she simply had no excuses for it.

Each bruise signified an opening in her defence, or a mistake that she had made amidst combat, and it was causing her to frown. Was her training really that lacking? Had she wasted so many years of her life believing that she was a prodigy of the sword for nothing?

In the end, just how many openings was Shirou able to exploit? It was like her swordsmanship was like an open book for her opponent, and even the subtle habits she had developed over time were somehow known by him.

Her mood soured further, almost as much as it had when Shirou had offered to heal her after seeing the numerous blows she had suffered. It was intolerable for her because the injuries on her person were reminders of her lack of skill, something she needed to amend.

"Still brooding?" A haggard and exhausted voice questioned from beside her.

"I'm _not_ brooding," she replied back in equal exhaustion, face growing dark as she was unwilling to admit that she been caught in the act.

Irina simply shook her head at the response before letting it go.

"How can someone so innocent looking and gentle become so ferocious when wielding a sword?" Irina complained, body aching from weariness and phantom pains as she lay on her back on the ground.

Unlike her, Irina had chosen to get her bruises healed, but clearly Irina was still scarred mentally.

"Someone already so strong shouldn't be able to be so skilled," Irina muttered, feeling wronged.

She agreed with Irina's statement, but all she did was grunt before speaking.

"All the more reason to one day return this vengeance ten-fold," she said resolutely, already knowing what she had to fix.

In terms of swordsmanship, she was better suited to being a brute than a Knight who relied on skill, preferring to defeat her opponents with simple overpowered slashes and inescapable magical bursts.

Against Shirou however, the man was like a monster. No matter how powerful her swings, and no matter how certain she was with her instincts, he would always seem to know the weakest destabilizing points of her attack. Her sword light for example was deflected by altering the positioning of her hands on the downward swing with a careful nick, her instinct defeated by common sense.

Recalling the training matches she and Irina had had with Shirou in the past few days, her mood couldn't help but drop further. However, she knew that the current day wasn't one where she should mope.

Shirou had informed her and Irina that the representatives of the Factions would be coming over today to discuss important matters.

With that on her mind, she forced herself up onto her feet and hobbled towards the bathroom, intent on a shower, or perhaps a bath.

 _Granted,_

Her brow furrowed.

 _As soon as Irina was done._

Irina had taken the initiative before her and had already accommodated the washroom.

Sure, that was fine and all, but why did she have to be so unfortunate?

Still sweaty, weary, and tired from the morning's training, Xenovia's ears twitched to the distinct sound of the front door's bell.

The Leaders of the Factions had arrived.

* * *

He didn't know just how many of the Leaders would come to discuss the matters regarding the Trihexa, but unexpectedly, the numbers were fewer than they were before in the Peace Talks.

Only Sirzechs, Azazel, and Michael made their way into his current accommodations and towards the living space.

"If you're curious about everyone else, its because Gabriel and the others have already agreed to support your decision and had to remain behind to complete their duties," Michael said without pause after noticing his expression of surprise, the man sitting himself down on a recliner adjacent to Sirzechs.

"Is that so," he murmured before his gaze shifted towards Azazel and Sirzechs, who promptly noticed his actions.

"The others were just too lazy to come, besides most of their opinions coincide with Michael's," Azazel shrugged, leaving only Sirzechs to appear gloomy.

Sirzechs stared at him for a moment, before shaking his head.

Sirzechs had suffered enough injustices recently, and was quite disheartened as a result. To be fair, he had fixed his situation regarding Adelina but he had forgotten about his biggest problem.

Serafall.

She had been keen on attending this meeting, but Sirzechs couldn't allow it. Grayfia had already been staring at him with a judging scrutiny in the Underworld, but he would be damned if he succumbed to it. To begin with, why was it his fault that Serafall had been neglecting her duties as a Great Satan in the days before the Peace Talks? Why did all of Serafall's unchecked documents end up on his clean, tidy, and previously 'empty' desk? Most of all, why did his wife look at him as if he was the villain for refusing to do someone else's work?

He had already dodged one bullet, but was then caught in the face with a Remington.

If this wasn't injustice towards him then what was?

In regards to Ajuka and Falibum's absence, well Ajuka trusted him as a friend, and Falbium was just Falbium.

Still, with all the gazes on him, Sirzechs had no choice but to at least speak his thoughts, yet he didn't have the guts when he remembered how devious Azazel could be, alliance or not.

"I don't want to talk about it," Sirzechs decided on saying.

Shirou didn't press for an answer. For some reason he felt some form of empathy for the forlorn Red Satan.

Making sure that everyone was seated, he set a table up in the middle of everyone and began preparing drinks, much to Michael's dismay who felt it wrong for someone of his standing to be acting as a simple server.

It didn't matter though for he was actually quite content to be tasked with menial chores such as cooking and preparing drinks.

In the midst of pouring a cup each for Sirzechs and the others, Xenovia and Irina soon stepped into the room.

Appearance wise, Irina was fresh out of the bathroom: glowing and radiant, her hair glossy and vibrant, and the sweet scent of peaches exuding from her person. In contrast, it was hard for Xenovia to remove the cloudy aura from around her. More so when he noticed that she was still in the same attire she had been wearing in the morning practice.

Guilt flashed across his eyes for a moment after he realized that she was still stubbornly enduring all the bruises he had inflicted on her in hopes of her remembering her mistakes.

However, trying to help her now would only worsen her mood as she was a head-strong and capable individual.

"Well now, if everyone's here, I suppose its time we start this meeting," Azazel was the first to speak. "First I'd like to thank those two girls there for coming, for its almost certain that they will be involved in this."

Both Irina and Xenovia widened their eyes in surprise, but simply let Azazel continue.

"The proposed alliance between Religions, it's going to be harder than it seems," Azazel said explicitly before leaning his back into his seat. "To begin with, although our dominion is the most known Religion in the world, most stronger Religions still view us as weak for obvious reasons."

Michael nodded while frowning.

"They still believe that we are without our God."

"And that we are without our Demons," Sirzechs interjected.

Michael and Sirzechs stared at each other, but didn't say another word, leaving it up to Azazel who sighed in exasperation.

"This is both a good thing, and a bad thing. The element of surprise will always create miracles out of the unexpected, but at the same time, we can't be taken too seriously with the current situation. We don't want to reveal our hands to early, meaning that there's no way that we can expect to obtain equal co-operation from major Religions like Hindusim and Buddhism. Therefore, we have to start smaller, yet not too small that it wouldn't make much of a difference."

Azazel picked up the offered drink and stared expectantly at the complimentary baked confections, his eyes widening when he bit into them.

"This is delicious," Azazel spoke out of context, but quickly covered it up with a cough and put on a somber attitude. However, the speed of his hands had increased much to Sirzechs and Michael's displeasure after they took their own samples.

"Moving on," Azazel dusted the crumbs from his suit. "We've already narrowed our viable options down to the Religions whose practices have mostly been forgotten, but are still strongly remembered. Three being the most practical options."

Azazel raised three fingers.

"Greek, Egyptian, and Norse. This is where we must start."

"The Egyptians are a stubborn bunch, and the Greeks are even worse with their family disputes and double identities as Romans. Fortunately, I've already been in talks with one of these three groups in our meetings at the famed and trademarked Oppai Clubs in Japan."

Saying that, Azazel stood up and beckoned forth a magic corridor from which an old man stepped out from.

The old man had a long white beard that extended down past his chest, and wore a sectioned-off hat in alternating colours of black and gold which sat atop his grayed hair. A gold and white coloured monocle was placed over one eye that matched with the blue robe he wore, contrasting well with further gold linings.

"Odin, the All Father, God of the North and the Aesir," Azazel introduced, yet the old man himself was too preoccupied with ogling at Irina and Xenovia.

"A fellow perv," Azazel added on with a welcoming smile.

"I give it seven points," Odin said after a moment of staring. "Seven for the tidy one and a ten for the other. Big bust, fiery personality and fighting spirit, in fact she's already glaring at me, much like another Valkyrie I know. The Valkyrie whose age equals the number of years without a boyfriend," Odin lamented dismissively before finding himself a seat, uncaring about the glares directed his way.

"A bunch of children all of you are, playing in a playground without supervision," Odin commented, surveying those present in the room. "But that's what makes it interesting doesn't it?"

Michael and Sirzechs revealed a strained smile, but to Azazel this was normal. He had been the same at one point with Odin's remarks, but after spending time together rating beauties, Azazel had come to know that the old man wasn't really so bad. He merely referred to them as children because he was of the generation containing the God from the bible.

Declining as the Norse Religion was in the current age, it was still something that was well known. Odin himself was a powerful individual and was generally tasked with staying within the Norse Realms and not in the outside world, only, the man was currently facing some problems he didn't wish to reveal at the moment.

Odin continued his observation in the room, having already been informed by Azazel of the topic of discussion. As such, he was more interested in the participants instead, the leaders of the Factions of the bible.

He was known as the All Seeing, a God blessed with wisdom.

Eventually, his gaze focused on a single individual, his expression growing vacant as if a dull thunder had struck him.

Of course, Shirou noticed he was being stared at, but didn't think too much about it as Odin himself was quick to avert his gaze. However, there was an odd glint in Odin's eyes when next he spoke.

"You wish to form an alliance with the Norse?" Odin got straight to the point, a seriousness in him that was generally lacking at all other times. "Originally, I had just wanted to hear what propositions you children might have had, but this old man has changed his mind. I will offer a single condition for you all to obtain my help."

"And that would be?" Sirzechs asked, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his thighs.

"To create a new path, a new future for the children of my Religion to consider for themselves," Odin said solemnly. "It seems like a heavy task, but I believe that fate will favour me in this occasion."

No one spoke after Odin's words, even Azazel was too caught up in contemplation.

In the silence Odin added further.

"If you don't obtain my aid, it's almost certain that the Norse will reject you, and its not because I am unwilling,"

Odin sighed, somehow reflecting his true age.

"To be honest, I am no longer the Chief Deity of the North, my vacant place taken up by my son, the God of Vengeance, Vidar. As for his stance on things, he's generally neutral and views either paths of the Norse Religion coming out of its seclusion or remaining as it is, as equal. The problem however, is that the younger Norse God favour the opinion of remaining isolated, unwilling to consort with other mythological systems. Without changing the thoughts of the younger generation, this proposed alliance will never occur."

Odin laid all the facts down solidly. To begin with, his presence in Kuoh was more of a private matter and note something known by even his kin at the moment.

Falling into a silent thought once more, Azazel decided that he couldn't just refuse outright.

"And how do you suppose our Christian Religion to go about with this favour?" Azazel questioned.

"Its simple really, and shouldn't involve any of you Leaders too much," Odin shrugged, a sly smile growing over his face. "The problem originates with the young, therefore it can be solved by the young. New initiates to be more accurate."

Shirou saw the way Odin was eying him, Xenovia, and Irina and felt somewhat uncomfortable.

"You can't be serious," Michael was the first to reject, his calm face growing stormy.

"They are human, are they not? It'll be less suspicious than a Devil or Angel." Odin feigned nonchalance. "It just so happens that there's a recent recruitment campaign occurring in Asgard, and depending on their performance they have the chance to make contact with some of the younger Norse Gods. It's just the magic light-based system of Christianity they are trained with will be a problem, However, I can fix that as the All Father."

Raising a hand, a divine energy entered Irina and Xenovia's bodies. Shioru was no exception, but oddly enough, God within him didn't reject to what Odin was doing and seemed to be approving of it.

 _"The Trihexa is more of a monster than you would know. Having the God with the Spear that never misses can be a boon worth taking this little venture for. Besides, I was always interested in the magic systems of the other Religions, perhaps I can improve my own with it."_

Left unsaid, Shirou could feel a distinct curiosity evident in God's tone that was reserved generally for inventors and creators. To be fair, God was the inventor of all Sacred Gears.

When the divinity left their bodies, the energy that he felt within himself was different from the pure light it had been before. Instead, it was turbulent like a still breeze in the atmosphere. This change should have been impossible as the aura and magic-system of each Religion was unique to their ruling Gods, but at the moment, the presence Shirou was exhibiting was reminiscent of a Norse follower.

To say Michael wasn't disturbed was like saying that Sirzechs was comfortable with having to explain to Serafall that Kuro was potentially being taken away by a God of another pantheon.

Sirzechs was already sweating bullets, and he clearly wanted to do everything in his power to find an alternative means, but seeing the lack of opposition from Shirou, he knew then that he was fucked.

It was another injustice, another bloody injustice! Why him? What did he do to deserve this?

All he wanted was just to not have to do the work of others.

Was that too much to ask?

Staring at Shirou, Odin gave a nod before proceeding to beckon Shirou, Xenovia, and Irina towards the corridor he had come from. The bridge leading to Asgard, home of Valhalla.

And yet, a hand stopped him and the rest. More specifically two.

"A-Are you sure about this," Sirzechs stammered, Michael for once taking on Sirzechs side.

"This is clearly too dangerous, surrounding yourself alone in the territory of other Gods," Michael insisted.

Shirou shook his head, the action enough to get Michael to relent, but at the same time making Sirzechs's expression more pitiful.

Without any other obstruction, he, Xenovia, and Irina made their way to Asgard, the land of the Aesir.

Left behind, Odin soon took his leave after bidding Azazel and the others goodbye.

The three Leaders of the Factions sat stiffly in the room.

Azazel smiled wryly at the order of events, and Sirzechs appeared as if his soul had been sucked out of him, the man muttering under his breath.

Michael however was more concentrated, his expression a mix of helplessness and resignation as a part of him understood the commotion that would occur in Heaven as a result of this.

In many ways, Gabriel was the most innocent of Angels, allowing her to be the purest of all Angels to act as a Holy Vessel for the Light of God. Innocent as Gabriel was however, she had the tendency to act like a child at times, abandoning her work to the side without remorse if she felt that she had been wronged.

In this case, he understood what would soon happen when he returned to the Sixth Heaven.

His expression fell, shifting into solemnity.

For the first time in centuries, he was certain of one thing.

Gabriel was going to throw a tantrum.

* * *

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